


Scars

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Healing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Marriage Law Challenge, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 52
Words: 140,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23575147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: Hogwarts' Battle just killed one Evil. Now Greyback is determined to become the next Dark Lord. Half of Magical Britain is wiped off, and those who remain must join together. The ministry passes Magical Marriage Law to protect people through marital bonds. And lost bloodlines are resurfacing, revealing a prophecy to save all of them, but not before their scars have healed. (AU)
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/George Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Lavender Brown/Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Seamus Finnigan/Daphne Greengrass
Comments: 58
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place; I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.  
My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet.

Like I mentioned, Scars deals with the Post War AU situation, where though the Dark Lord had been killed, things had turned grim. Another threat in the name of Greyback had reared its head up. The population of Magical Britain had been drastically reduced and the survivors had to take steps to save themselves. This would ask for huge sacrifices both on personal and socio-economic levels. Foes will have to work together. Our own characters will grow out of their fumbling and faulty teenhood persona, war-hardened. They will carry both mental and battle scars and will learn to heal, find love, affection, and comfort in the oddest of places- in the hearts of long-standing enemies or people they had never looked back to twice. (tt)

* * *

**Chapter 1**

In the night sky of the ancient Black Forest, five brooms appeared out of nowhere. Clothed in dark robes, five people smoothly landed on the grass. Two women. Three men. Two of the taller men brought forward two bundles, that they had been cradling close to their chests throughout the long ride from Magical Britain. The younger man was looking around the small clearing they just dismounted upon. It was quiet. An uncanny quiet even for a forest so dense.

Once each of them had ascertained that not a single soul apart from them was around, the taller and thinner man removed his hood, gesturing the other to follow suit. Severus Snape walked up to Harry Potter, relinquishing his burden in the young man's waiting arms. Likewise the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt had walked up to Luna, delivering his bundle which the witch cradled carefully on the crook of her elbow. in hushed whispers, the man had mused, "Only once did she wriggle!" Snape murmured," its time. Are you sure, Andromeda, we are in the right place?" The older woman replied, "I..I am most certain of it Snape."

"Then, in that case, we better start the ritual."

Andromeda Tonks walked up to her grandson secured within Harry's arms and whispered "Lumos". The tip of her wand glowed in response, throwing light over the face of a tiny baby with small chestnut hair. He only cringed his brows but had continued to slumber. Though the elders around him could feel the air growing chilly. Slowly his grandmother brought out his tiny fist and left it hanging out of his blanket.

Severus Snape had, in the meantime, approached the sleeping girl in Luna's arms. The young woman had already removed the baby's blanket. The newborn's platinum golden hair shone brightly even if the surrounding was drenched in haunting darkness. With his bony fingers, he carefully freed, untangled the tiny fist, and had left it hanging outstretched.

When Harry and Luna had stood face to face, letting the outstretched baby fists aligned one over the other, Snape had joined them to form a perfect human triangle. Around those five, Shacklebolt and Andromeda had started humming under their breath, their wands busy, creating patterns on the forest ground. The air had started growing chilly, and a strange bird had hooted from a nearby tree. Luna was transfixed at the sight of a reddish spiral pattern forming under her feet and looked up at Harry, only to find him equally bewildered.

The Potion Master warned once, "Concentrate, the both of you!", and placed the baby fists one over the other after holding them open. At his cue, Luna had held on to the open palm of the baby girl. And Harry had done the same with Ted Lupin.

"Make sure, none of them pull away, hold it tight." Snape brought out a needlepoint knife, that he had been carrying with him in a hidden holster under his billowing robes. In the plain moonlight, its golden surface glinted with a dull aura. Clearing his throat in his signature baritone voice, he began chanting a spell that morphed into an ancient forest song. Bringing the knife down swiftly on Ted's palm, he made a clean-cut, making the baby screech and wail in pain. The baby girl had woken up at the sudden sound, but undeterred Snape repeated the action on her open palm. Holding the bleeding palms, he had joined them at the wounds, which had started bleeding. With his larger, coarser ones, he nestled them, and Harry and Luna, both placed their free hands over his.

Together they began chanted along with the Potion Master and were soon joined by Shacklbolt and Andromeda who had been standing right outside the glowing pattern, with their wands pointed at the human triangle formed by the other five. Their strong voices, the howling wind around, the swaying trees about had succeeded in masking the painful wails of the babies inside this rather protective magical field. Snape had repeatedly pressed on the tiny palms, and soon he could feel the trail of blood flow over his large hands and hit the glowing ground below. The ground started vibrating. The patterns below their feet had started glowing. A deep crimson ray started forming right where the drops of blood had fallen. Very soon, it started rippling outwards. Only once had the ripple grew tight and the next moment it had exploded, sending the other older onlookers off their feet.

Shacklebolt and Andromeda were asked to wait for this moment itself. Picking themselves up hastily, they had taken a few steps forward, still pointing their wands ahead. They screamed, " Versiegeln Sie die Bindung" ten times. Their voice oddly mingled with the song Snape had continued chanting, finding his pauses and filling the gaps to complete the spell. Snape felt the vibration quake in his bones and shaking slightly, barely managed to keep standing. He let go of the palms he was so long gripping on from below.

The younger couple, still holding the crying babies in each of their arms, stared at the thinner and paler man in awe. Shaking his head once and then twice, "I too did not expect it. A half veela and a half-werewolf to become soul bound. I clearly sang the archaic magic spell for blood protection…"

Shacklebolt had wiped off the sweat forming over his bald head and walked in closer. "What is done, is done. Magic still knows ways to surprise us," then shifting his gaze from the babies to the ones holding on to them, he said, in a solemn voice, "That's it then, we better leave. Or else, our absence will be noted. I wish you both a happy married life, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Madam... and Tonks do take care."

"Kingsley, not yet." Severus Snape swiftly pocketed the needlepoint knife inside its dedicated holster, that he wore under his billowing robes. Then he brought out a phial. Kneeling over the blood splatter still wet on the ground, he siphoned some off it into the phial and put the stopper back in place. Sending a long remorseful look at the baby girl, he pocketed it. Next, he had brought out a longish sack and handed it to the older woman.

"Andromeda, there are phials of healing potions and specific potions for infant ailments, you might require. There are a couple of basic caldrons, herbs, potions, ingredients, some clothes and other regular needs you all might require to set up, Poppy was kind enough to arrange for baby formulas, those are supposed to last long enough," he once turned to Shacklebolt and then looking back at the emotional old woman, he continued, "in case, I am not available, contact Mr. Neville Longbottom."

The woman had walked up and then hugged the man with all her might. He stiffened at the sudden contact and clumsily patted the other's back.

"I don't know how to…"

"Don't Andromeda, I was always a duty-bound man, remember..."

Untangling himself from her fierce hug, he turned to look at the young man. Giving him a piercing look, he had brandished his wand and walked off to the nearest trees. In moments, he transfigured them into long logs and in half hours' time, a decent cabin stood in the small clearing.

Swallowing once and taking a deep breath, Severus Snape, renowned for his hatred for Harry Potter, hugged the man mindful of the baby boy, in his arms. Blinking away, tears, he whispered close to the bewildered man's ears, "Lily would have been proud of you. And so am I, Harry. Consider that cabin, as my gift and my token of gratitude." Squeezing the man tighter for one more second, he let go of him.

Next, he walked up to the young woman. She gave him an encouraging dreamy smile and held out the still whimpering baby girl. Carefully, he took her in his long bony arms. Running one long finger over her chubby cheek, in a soft loving voice, he had murmured, "Forgive me, little one, I know that did hurt a lot. But Godfather will always watch over you." Placing a chaste kiss over her brows, he had handed her over back to waiting arms of the young woman.

Giving the five of them a long look, he nodded curtly and walked back to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had already picked up their brooms. They swiftly mounted them, when the young man called out from behind.

"Minister Shacklebolt, Professor Snape, if you ever so wish your owls to find us, in future, remember to address your parcels to either Mr. Heimrich Claysmith or Mrs. Launa Claysmith or Madam Skontas."

A second later two brooms rose a couple of feet high, hovering over the clearing for a while, disappeared in thin air.

The five magical people left behind had kept staring upwards into the night sky, when a howl of a lone wolf in this quiet Black Forest of Germany, greeted the new dwellers for the first time.

* * *

The ground had started rumbling once again. Wands drawn, the three adults had immediately taken up a battle stance. Though the nestling babies unaffected by it were merrily cooing within the arms of the young couple.

Andromeda was the first person to notice the shimmering apparition behind them.

"Harry, Luna…look."

Hoisting his godson closer to his chest, Harry had stood in front of Luna, who too was guarding Theadora by holding her close to her chest, caution rippling through her body.

Gulping down the sinking sense of foreboding, Harry had inched closer to Andromeda, his wand still pointed at the now hazy mirage of an old cottage.

"That would most certainly be, Gran Grezel's cottage…this magical field around us is ancient, old, and forgotten…yet how fascinating."

Luna, who was watching the gradual reveal of a forgotten dwelling, whispered in awe, over Harry's shoulder," Magic recognizes, it's true blood."

Andromeda had turned back and nodded, her face overjoyed, "Yes, dear, Old Magic recognizes us as protectors of its future masters," glancing down at the two babies, who too were peering at the glowing cottage," we are safe now, truly safe."

The ground had vibrated for a couple of moments. The after-effects of the residual magic exploded through the surrounding forest, sending ripples of energy through its expanse.

Another howl of a wolf ripped through the quietness, making the new people shudder.

To their utter amazement, the moment both Harry and Luna, Ted and Theadora still held protectively in their arms, had crossed the outer mark of the dwelling, the throbbing magical presence died down. The cottage was now as real as the Log House, standing next to it.

Andromeda gushed with excitement, "Never in my dreams did I imagine I would stand and would also have the opportunity to live in a mythical cottage." Turning to the young couple, she exclaimed as if remembering a very important point. "Now, now, why don't the two of you wait here. I will just go and arrange your rooms for the night."

With that she turned and had walked down the small path. Unlocking the front door, she stepped into the Log House.

Once, inside, the old woman, who had lost too many family members in this war, leaned against it and allowed her body to quake. Outside, she had to be strong for that frightened young couple. Here, alone and all by herself, she could loosen her armour. She could weep a tear or two, she could cry. This, the whole of this was a voluntary exile. To stop another Evil from rearing its head up. Pushing down another approaching set of cries, she chastised herself, "Not now. There will be time for all this."

Standing straight she walked further into the room and had given it a closer inspection. Snape did magnificent work. Minerva would be so proud of him if she ever got the chance to lay her eyes on this masterpiece.

Rising her wand, she brought out her beads bag. This one was similar to the one Hermione Granger had carried on their Horcrux expedition. The girl had gifted this one to the old woman before they had left for Germany. She had also helped her pack a few of the items, she thought they all would need in order to settle down.

Squaring her shoulders, she had left the bag open on the floor before her, and muttered to herself, "It's time." Then a little louder and in a clear practiced voice, she had uttered, "Accio Harry's Bedroom Items."

She levitated a four-poster bed, two dressers, bedside tables, and such similar household furniture. She had also brought out candles, several of them, and placed them around the room. Next drapes, curtains, bed linen of burgundy red, and rich royal blue shades had flown out of the bag and had soon wrapped themselves around their designated places in the cosy space. A small Persian rug had unrolled itself at the foot of the bed. Two armchairs had settled themselves next to the now blazing hearth. Above, the ceiling had an artistic chandelier with everlasting candles lit up, lazily hanging all by itself, throwing soft light around the room.

She noticed two doors on the furthest wall and opened them one by one. One was a bathroom complete with a shower and a mirror and washbasin. The other was an extended walk-in closet. She shook her head in utter disbelief and had smirked, "The man wears only black, and still, knows what a house requires! Ever the perfectionist."

Harry gestured Luna to follow him, and together they sat side by side with the two babies settled in their laps. He next conjured up two orbs of blue light and had left them hovering above the four of them. the woman next to him, in return, gave him a small smile of appreciation.

"I…so much happened…this... all of this is so overwhelming. I never thought I would live…"

Luna turned her face at him, and hummed," Nor did I".

She had looked down at the drowsy baby girl in her lap. "I don't know how to manage a baby. And I will have to…I mean…we are expected to…take care of both of them…and this marriage…"

"I know, but trust me, Luna, I will try, I know, I am not the most patient person, but I know how important family is…I will try, for all of us."

"To think of all this at once is frightening, but we can take one step at a time…can't we?

Meanwhile, Andromeda had come out of the log house and stood at its threshold. Her eyes had welled up as she quietly watched the two young people trying to function as a family. She had to be strong. They knew nothing of life. And at every step from now on, they would turn to her for guidance. Blinking her tears away, she had walked back to them. Appearing from behind and replied on behalf of all of them, "Yes, one step at a time, sounds promising. Now, why don't you go in after all…"

Harry got up, mindful of snoozing Ted, in his arms, "Aunt Dora, why don't we help you settle in first."

"In that case, we need two bassinets for these two munchkins," the older woman had pointed out. She pointed her wand at some nearby tree stumps. Giving the wand a couple of flicks, she successfully transfigured them, into rocking bassinets. Harry handed over Ted to his grandmother. He undid his navy-blue scarf and had transfigured that into a baby blanket. Walking up to the two bassinets he brought them over and had placed the blanket inside one.

Luna too followed suit and had transformed her pink cowl. A pretty pink blanket, with dancing unicorns at its borders now lined up the insides of the other bassinet. Satisfied, that the new furniture held on to their transfigured properties, Andromeda levitated them, while Harry opened the front door to the Cottage.

"Well, for now, let us just get these two sleepyheads settled in." Once all of them entered the magical cottage, the fire in the hearth had set ablaze on its own. The candles on the sconces around the big space had lit up. The kettle over the small kitchenette came alive. There was a table of six, with chairs around it, a couch and a centre table. On the left hand, they noticed a room. Stepping inside, they found out it was a rather large bedroom. Gently placing the two rocking cots near the king size bed, they walked back into the living space. Apart from the bare necessities already present, they had found two adjoining doors. One was a moderate bathroom, with old pipework. And the other could work both as a storeroom and a pantry.

Andromeda had left Snape's Sack on the couch. She would have time, later on, to sort out all the items he had packed for them. Right now, she needed Harry and Luna to retire for the night. They hardly had much time left.

She walked up to them and had drawn them together in a motherly hug. She took the time to whisper into their ears, "Take care of each other. I know things are not ideal, but this night will come in your lives only once, make the most of it."

She dragged the thoroughly blushing couple out of the house and walked up to the entrance of the Log house. Placing Luna's hand into Harry's firmer ones, she nudged them towards the log. Though after a moment, she had called out, amused, "By the way, what should we call, Snape's gift?"

Harry shrugged "I would hardly know, I have started my life in a cupboard under the staircase, and then Hogwarts was like my forever home…" He looked at Luna, expectantly.

The new wife had stared at the house dreamily. A while later, she tugged at Harry's hand and said, "Tiny". Harry and Andromeda couldn't help laughing aloud. The older woman quipped, "I would assure you Mr. and Mrs. Claysmith, nothing about our elusive potion Master is just simply 'Tiny'. Their laughter eased away the heavily weighing tension biting at their conscience for the last couple of days. The young couple] turned back and pleaded, "Let us help you settle the babies, first…"

Smiling back, Andromeda just shooed them away. She dragged them instead, in their new house, "Tiny." A swift flick of her wand had peeled off their heavy cloak and robes. Underneath both of them were still wearing the marriage ceremonial tunics. They both had looked back at her bashfully. With a fond smile she ordered, "Oh, my young love! Now! remember, take care of each other." And turned and walked out. A second later she locked the door from outside with a powerful locking spell. Least those two still thought they could delay the inevitable.

When she had turned and started walking towards the cottage, she noticed a hunched-up shadow at the periphery of the clearing. Two yellow eyes watching her. She gulped down and simply nodded at the figure. Walking faster, she entered the cottage and had locked it. Fearing for her life and those she was supposed to look after, she had put up a strong locking spell and strong warding spells on the doors and the windows. She peered through the smoky glass of the window. The pair of yellow eyes were still watching the cottage with rapt attention. Wiping her face with her shaking hands, she whispered to no one particular, "Merlin! Let that be Schwarze Nacht".

* * *

A/N: Schwarze Nacht in German means Black Night. Versiegeln Sie die Bindung in German means seal the bond. I could be wrong, just following the 'google translate' here. 😊


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_A couple of days after the Battle of Hogwarts_

At the dead of the night, all of them had gathered in the Library of the Grimmauld Place. The newly appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had brought a rare odd-looking stone basin. That was now sitting atop a sturdy table conjured by the potion master Severus Snape. There were other people present around the room. All dressed in traditional magical robes. A marriage ceremony was going to be conducted in a couple of moments. It would be the first marriage to be held in accordance with the upcoming Magical Marriage Law, which the Ministry will pass in two days to come. Though most importantly, it was Harry Potter's marriage. But there was no fanfare, no flashbulbs exploding around. Only the crackling of the burning logs in the fireplace, and the rustle of ceremonial robes. Perhaps a couple of sniffles too.

The bodies of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had just been laid near Andromeda Tonks's cottage. They could not risk a proper funeral. The minister had spoken aloud, once Snape had excused himself from the room. He had handed out requisition forms to the following people:  
Hermione, Harry, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and George. He had asked Hermione to explain how the strange-looking stone basin worked.

"This basin, that you all can see here, is called 'the process'. it is similar to a muggle matrimonial site, only both Neville and I have added some charms to it, to match couples based on their magical affinities, their general interests, and their temperaments. We have also considered genetics, because, well, we all know, the war has reduced our population into one-third of its strength…and still many of us are being hunted and killed…"

She had looked at Neville. The celebrated Nagini Slayer had continued on her behalf, his voice deep and somber, "We had taken into account the rising number of stillborn, squibs and miscarriages happening due to inbreeding among the pureblood families. And we thought it was better to put away the division and treat the magical society as one big group of magical people. Intermarriage was the only way to do away with, you know, squibs, and miscarriages, or high child mortality rate."

Blinking her eyes several times, biting on her lips, Hermione had looked around the room, "I…I never thought, we will have to do this, at least not in this way…I would like to apologize to each one of you, for making this process…"

"Miss Granger, I would urge you not to think in such depressing terms, rather, one day we would have to thank you, for giving the magical society a means to survive through. We are now battling for existence. Greyback and his werewolves have vowed to see Magical Britain go extinct within a year. Both Mr. Longbottom and you will share the credit." Minister Kingsley had surmised.

Coughing in his hands, the older man had addressed the room at large, "Now why don't you all hand over your completed forms." Once he had all the forms, he had simply dropped them one by one into the stone basin. The milky white surface had started bubbling, and then tendrils of smoke had risen out of it. Two slips had shot out of the stone basin, right into the hands of the Minister of Magic.

He had opened each of one of them and had looked up at Harry, "Mr. Potter, you are to marry Miss Luna Lovegood…Here, go along with Miss Granger, she must have by now arranged for your traditional ceremonial attire."

Harry had nodded in resignation and had followed Luna and Hermione out of the room. He had dared to look at Ginny, only to find her glaring back at him. Her face had turned dark, venomous, and downright malicious. He was glad to see George had stepped closer to his sister and had been holding on to her shoulders. While closing the door to the library, Harry was glad he had broken it off with the red-headed witch. _He had made it clear to her they were never meant to be. Ginny was still naïve. Now he had to look after two babies, and Ginny Weasley was not yet prepared to be a mother. But was Luna the one then? He had turned around, to find the girl selected for him, waiting, looking back at him expectedly…He could take a leap of faith._

He had always wanted to flee after all this war over. But the battle had just got stretched over. He _had succeeded in killing one evil only to find another was already planning its ascent for a while. He had had enough of running, fleeing chasing dueling fighting megalomaniacs. During Bill and Fleur's marriage A year back, the dark forces had kidnapped the sister of the bride. Gabrielle Delacour. Even while captured and kept in the Malfoy Manor, Harry had tried to look for the unfortunate girl, thinking he had the luck of saving her once, maybe, just maybe he could save her once again. But the veela sister was nowhere around._

_Until Greyback had fatally wounded Lavender Brown and Blaise Zabini had succeeded in saving the girl by showing the presence of mind to apparate her to St. Mungo's specialty ward right from the Hogwarts grounds. Still struggling to breath, Brown had whispered to a shuddering Zabini, "Back has the veela girl…he…she is…pregnant…Fleur's sis…"_

_They had to act fast since Greyback had been plundering around the country, he had even come back to attack Hogwarts. Professor Lupin had been instrumental in thwarting that offensive. Miraculous Draco Malfoy had managed to locate Fenrir Greyback's, Secret Lair. They were certain at this crucial stage that was the only place the alpha werewolf would keep her. Few of the members of the Order of the Phoenix including Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Neville, George, a wounded Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks had gone to free the girl. Harry had been forced to stay back with Hermione, Luna, Andromeda, and Mrs. Figgs at Grimmauld Place. Malfoy had already left, scouting closely to the Lair._

Hermione had already taken Luna to an adjoining room and had left Harry in the bedroom, he had been sharing with Ron. When she had walked back, he had spoken aloud, his eyes still trained at Ron's empty bed. "Do you miss him?"

Hermione had walked up to him and had sat beside him on his bed, "I do".

"I do, as well."

When she had laid her head on his shoulder, he had managed to speak once again.

"Moine, how am I supposed to do it? Be a father, when I don't even know how to be a husband, be a guardian, when I don't even understand how to function as a family? All I have seen, experienced are the disapproving Dursleys and the overprotective Weasleys? I don't think I am cut out for this? I wish I could disappear…"

Turning her head, wiping her tears, Hermione had done what she was best at, "Harry James Potter, if you think you are the only one questioning all of these, then you are an idiot. Luna had also been lost in thought, now, isn't that obvious, but do you know what she had asked me?"

Nodding his head, Harry had peered back at his apologetic friend, stammering he had managed to say the word, "What?"

"But Harry loves Ginny…I think he still does."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said, 'Luna, why don't we look at the bigger picture here'- do you know what she had replied to that…"

"What?"

"She had hugged me tight, and had whispered into my ears, I could never imagine Luna to be so frightened, like a terrified girl…"

Concerned, Harry had pressed on, "What did she say Mione?"

"I want to learn how to live, please, somewhere far away. Mione, I hope though I know Harry, I am still worried sick, will he hurt me?"

His eyes had lit up, he had caught hold of both of his best friend's hands and had held them firm within his very own.

"I promise you, Hermione, I will never, never harm or hurt Luna, or those two babies, I am going to be entrusted with. If this is the way I am to have a family, I will try to make peace with it. Hermione, believe me, I know I am not a very patient man, but trust me, I will try, I honestly will, I will not abandon them…never, till my last breath."

Hugging her friend with all her might, Hermione had cried over his shoulders, perhaps this was the last time she was going to see him, she had kissed his cheek fondly, and had whispered into his ears, "Oh! Harry, that is all I wanted to know, and don't worry about me, I might have to spend the rest of my life with the ferret, you know."

Chuckling into her bushy hair, the groom had whispered back, "Trust me, he is not that bad."

"Look who's talking!"

"Shush, Moine! Promise me Mione, whoever it will be, you will accept it, for your own safety, you will accept this bond, and you will stay by that person, you are smart, the brightest witch of the age, but you have seen Greyback, and you know, brute force is capable of crushing brains."

The girl had wept in his arms, and in between those several tears she had cried, "I will, I will try for your sake. I will try…but how can I forget Ron?"

Andromeda had walked in a while after and had told them, they were waiting for the Groom. They had a long journey to make, they better hurry. And Dawn was soon approaching.

* * *

When the door had closed behind them, Harry had squeezed Luna's hand. They had tried not to see each other, blushing in anticipation. It was Luna who had uttered a soft, "Wow!" and Harry had looked around the room. Probably, he did not see himself getting married this young. Probably he was too keen to leave the magical world and live somewhere remote and away from prying eyes. But the very world he was determined to run away from, had made sure to bestow him with warm parting gifts.

A house, a tiny one, but adequate enough for two people. Warm, cozy, inviting, homely. Apart from the Burrows and Hogwarts, there was n't any other place where he thought he could feel homely. But this... this was like a little paradise, amidst the dense cluster of ancient trees of Black Forest. He was no longer thinking of what was going to happen from now on. He was overwhelmed. How could a man so reserved build such a paradise for him? Severus Snape, the man he had grown hating, had given him, his life, his freedom from the clutches of Voldemort, has given him a reason to live for, has ensured that he indeed lived a better life, a peaceful and secluded one…

He had felt soft hands rubbing against his face. Still amazed he had turned. Unknowingly, he had been crying, and Luna had stepped closer to wipe away those free-falling tears. Her eyes were glistering, like forest fairies. Overwhelmed with such show of unhindered affection, he had pressed his cheeks against her soft palm. And had peered back at her in affection.

She had smelled of fresh leaves, wildflowers, wet earth, new life. He had slowly stepped closer to her; his hand had snaked around her. His other hand had slowly held her chin up, lowering his head, he had brushed his lips against her. He knew first hand, how new she was to all this…

During the binding ceremony, he had kissed her. He had guided her subtly. Even now, he was the one to ghost his lips over her trembling ones. In fright or in anticipation, she had closed her eyes. Naïve, his wife was so fresh. He had peppered her lips with soft tiny kisses. The one reserved for newborn babies. He had let his hand rest on the small of her back. His thumb, touching the exposed flesh through the slit that had been tied in a fancy lace pattern. A peep of flesh here, only to be hidden by netted mesh the very next second.

His finger had burnt a hole in the very place it had rested on her back. Luna had deduced this strange attraction to her new husband Harry Potter was due to the binding ceremony. How else could the celebrated boy who lived feel this gravitated towards a dreamer like her? Ever since he had said the vows, repeated the ancient spells, he had been stealing glances of her. Trying to make sure, he was touching her. Maybe by resting his palm on the small of her back, or touching her finger in between his two. Or ghosting his fingers over her knuckles.

When they had started the long journey, he had made sure to fly beside her. They had stopped for a short lunch after crossing the French borders. He had shared his water pouch with her. And when she had handed it over to him, he had brushed his fingers over her. Luna was aware, _you don't fall in love in a single day_. Harry Potter was not in love with her. She had thought about this, all through those hasty preparations of dressing up for her marriage. Ginny had been shooting daggers at her. The redhead had even managed to step on her foot.

Luna had genuinely felt sorry for the youngest Weasley. Still being languidly kissed, she had found herself melting into his waiting arms. Where did he learn to kiss like this? Ginny. Gasping, she had softly pushed Harry away. Dazed, he had stared down at her, resting his forehead against her trembling one.

Unable to think of anything else, she had mumbled, her eyes hovering over the many candles burning around the bedroom. The corner of his spectacles had glinted. "But, you love her…." She had found her chin, once again getting tilted up. This time, he had held it firmer. Looking right into her eyes, he had whispered, "I tried to love Ginny, but nothing felt closer to what I feel right now, with you here."

Squaring her shoulders, Luna had tried to reason out, "You have known me for some time, yet you are acting like those romances, like all this is love at first sight, Harry, I have believed in imaginary things for the most part of my life…"Pushing away from him, she had walked a couple of steps further into the room. Biting her lips, she had tried to speak of her insecurities aloud, "I know, why we did, what we did, I know we have a task. We have to bring up two kids, the very ones, whose lives are at stake, I…I have never before…I never knew what a kiss felt like until today morning."

While she had been standing a foot away from him, he had been intently watching her. How her hair flew down like a golden cascade. How her long eyelashes kissed her rosy cheeks each time she would blink them in desperation. His throat had started to get dry. Looking around, he had found two goblets beside a pitcher. He had softly implored at the nervous bride, "Luna, would you prefer sitting down, I would really like to hear through whatever you have to say?"

Turning back to him, she had peered at him in trepidation and had accented with a shift nod. He had walked up to the dresser on which both the goblets and the pitcher had been kept. Filling both the goblets till the halfway mark, he had returned to Luna. She had been gingerly sitting at the edge of the bed, the frills of the tunic, brushing against the floorboard. Handing one over to her, he had taken his seat next to her. She had been uncharacteristically nervous, he hoped she might be able to work through her shyness if he was not looking at her face all the while.

"You know, I never imagined I would be a godmother. Gabrielle and I had been friends, odd isn't it. We had also been pen-pals, stranger still isn't it? Now she is dead. And this happened yesterday, what an unfortunate way to die? I don't hate Theadora, she is so sweet, do you know what cherubs are Harry?"

"I do."

"I think she is a cherub."

"Luna, Kingsley has said something, I would want you to know, that there is a loophole in this marriage..."

Turning to him, she had brought one leg up and had folded it under her, Harry had to gulp at the sight of her milky white knee. He had never felt this silly before. Was there something in the firewhiskey?

"Umm, we don't really have to, you know, need to seal the bond tonight itself, I mean we must but, we can skirt around it a bit?"

She had been thoroughly confused at this new revelation, "How?"

"You know, we have to kind of live-together, kiss, hold hands, sleep beside each other, the magic running within us recognizes the pull of affinity. And together we can grow, become friends, maybe become lovers, and finally accept each other in body, mind, and soul."

Luna had been intently looking at him all through this short speech.

In a strangely determined voice she had asked him, "Harry, how would you explain your love for Teddy? I mean to what extent would you fight for him?"

As if she had questioned his integrity, anger had flared up in his eyes, "For Ted, I can kill."

In that same steel voice, Luna had replied, "For Theadora, I can learn to kill. My virginity is immaterial before the life of the little one, immaterial before the trust Gabrielle had laid on me."

Weaving his fingers through his tousled hair, Harry had shaken his head. "But Luna, I…I might hurt you."

"I know, I am aware. Haven't both of us, vowed to keep those two, safe, and ensure that the future of our world remains secured. Safe, away from the hands of Greyback."

"You know…?"

Luna had blushed and looked down at her dainty feet. "Aunt Andromeda has been quite instructive."

"Oh, gods!"

Luna, despite her shyness and apprehension, had giggled. Turning around, she had watched those many candles burn. Their wicks tremble and dance with the light breezy still dancing around the room.

"Shall I blow out those candles?"

Harry had followed her line of sight and had watched those small flames flicker and sway. "If you want to…"

Getting up slowly, she had walked up to each and every one of those white cylinders of wax, peering at their small glowing flames, as if saying a soft apology, then blowing them out. He could now see the swells of her curves, the rise and fall of her chest with every blow she had garnered to put an end to a tiny light, she had slowly submerged the room into soothing darkness. But he wanted to see her more than ever. He wanted to see her skin, he…

"Don't!"

Turning back to him, she had looked confused.

"I mean, that is enough, you don't need to blow all of them…I mean please…."

Blushing into a deeper shade of red, Luna had stammered, "But then, you will see me…I mean, Harry, I am plain, I am not…"

Getting up from the bed, Harry had walked up to the shivering girl. Standing inches away from her, he had whispered looking deep into her ocean blue eyes, "Luna, I want to see you, I want to cherish you, I want to memorize you, I want to learn every bit of you, I need to, I need this because I…I too need to start relearning how to live…and I want to start doing everything with you. Luna, keep looking at me, for Merlin's sake, don't close them, or look away from me…promise?"

With a slight nod, his bride had whispered back, "I promise…"

Locking his eyes with her, he had peeled away, his ceremonial tunic, and had discarded it at his feet.

He had tried to make sure not to sound uncertain. "Luna, your turn."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

Chapter 3

The stained glass windows of Hogwarts prefect bathroom had several water nymphs, waving, blinking and nodding at the students. The first time Harry had gaped at one such window, the nymph had winked at him. But Luna looked more enticing than any of them. She had kept her promise. Keeping her eyes focused on Harry, she had slowly bunched up the tunic, within her two fists, and had pulled it over her head. It was hard to breathe in, it was a sin to breathe out. He had thought Aunt Andromeda had only vanished his boxers. But the witch had played the same trick on Luna as well. The candles had flicked. Their flames had joined in to cast gossamer shades on her bare skin. Unconsciously he had licked his lips. This was a tease. But a tempting tease. She had trouble with her glowing voluminous hair, the tunic had got stuck around her head.

"Ugh, I…I… such a Klutz!"

"Let me…"

Harry had moved closer to her. He had watched her go stiff, her chest rising rapidly. He tried hard not to run his fingers over her. Closing his eyes, counting back and forth, he had finally managed to get a grip. Snaking his hands around her head, he had managed to undo, the dainty lace. "Just one tug" Aunt Andromeda had whispered into his ears, outside while hugging him. When he had managed to peel the cloth off her, he had followed the old witch's instruction to the letter. He had given in to his temptations and had engulfed his trembling wife into a fierce hug. He needed her. Every atom of his being had been screaming at his soul, "consume her". Running his hand in circles behind her back, feeling those rippling muscles of her back, he had sighed close to her ear.

His eyes had started clouding, he wanted to forget the pain, the loneliness and the desire to anchor himself in her grew larger and larger with every passing breath. Determined not to lose a moment more, Harry had held the back of her neck and had crushed her lips with his. He needed to get rid of her insecurities. He needed to clear her foggy mind. He needed her to know, he was a clean slate, his heart was ready, prepared to invite her in, only if she could take the first step. Swirling his tongue over her lips, he had pried them apart. Why were things so unnatural with Ginny? This, this surrender was what he had been looking for. In life, there wasn't anything that he could have control over. But if a woman could simply give him the right to take the lead.

He had gone further, making her breath his, making her moan his, making her, finally respond to his challenge for dominance. He had felt her fingers ghost over his shoulders, he had felt them tremble and then tentatively, she had allowed her hands to act on their own. She had circled them around his head, digging her fingers into his hair. He had been kneading her neck. And she had tried mirroring his move. But her nails had scratched against his nerves, and he had felt the jolt run down his spine. Grunting, he had pulled apart from her, though his hands had pressed her tighter against his quaking self. She had set him on fire. Heaving against her forehead, he had felt himself brushing against her supple belly. She was like a doe caught in a trap. But he was not going to set her free.

Still high, he had murmured against her burning forehead, "Luna, I want you." In reply, she had leaned in and had planted a soft petal-like kiss on his collar bone. He did not remember how they had reached for the bed, how they had fumbled to excite each other further, but the whole experience had been heavenly. To watch her skin flush with arousal, to watch her keen with pleasure, to watch her smile and then burst into giggles when he had found those special tickle spots. He remembered peppering every inch of her with soft kisses, only to retrace those goosebumps with his tongue, then his teeth and then his fingers. In between that dazed foreplay, he had kept on asking her, "Did I hurt you?"

In the beginning she might have had the lingering grip on her sanity, to reply with a small word, "No." But he had gone ahead and had captured her sense of reason. She was meowing like a cat, howling like a wolf in heat, and in the mix of those, she had managed to stroke his fire high enough. Settling in between her inviting legs, he had held her face, in his palm, kissing her softly, reminding her he was as tender as he was wild. He had made sure she could enjoy their mutual essence, as much as he had enjoyed them. Right over her lips, he had rested his untiring ones and had looked deep into her dazed eyes… "Love, this will hurt, but stay with me, I will try to…"

Her hands had halted his unpracticed speech. She had reclaimed her right to seal the bond. Guiding him in her depths and securing the rhythm of his thrusts by keeping her hands around his waist. He had watched her cry in pain and pleasure, he had watched her shatter into pieces beneath him, he had watched her eyes glow with love and affection, he had witnessed those tell-tale marks of his wild show of adoration appear all over her flushed skin. As he had approached his own completion, Harry Potter had opened his heart apart. Hugging his wife as close as possible, he had cried aloud, shaking within her comforting arms.

He had tried to form words, but they had only come out as fresh tries. He had dug deep into her chest. Nestling within her warmth, he has wept.

From somewhere below his still trembling body, she had whispered, "Thunder."

He had simply stretched his neck to peer at her shining eyes. "what?"

"Your scare Harry, I am tired of calling it "like a lightning bolt". I prefer the word Thunder, that's so much like you."

Bracing himself on his elbows, he had tried to roll off her, but she had simply held him tighter against her.

"I must be crushing you…"

"No, this..this feels home, secure, cozy, stay Harry."

Looking at her face intently, he had offered her a small smile, "I am home…"

"Yes, you are…"

Kissing the patch of skin just below him, he had inhaled her scent once again. Wet earth, first rain, wildflowers, forest bed, morning dew, freshly pressed rosebuds, new leaf. He was going to commit each and every one of those smells to memory. His love potion had smelt the same, those many months ago. Only he had failed to see this angel for who she was. He felt he had to apologize, for making her wait this long.

"Luna…"

"Hm?"

I am sorry…"

"Why?"

"I…I might have made you wait this long…"

In reply she had just leaned in and had kissed his crown. She had gone back to trailing her fingers over his back.

Though this silence was blissful, he had to say something, just to make the seconds stop for a while and listen to their calming breath.

"Can I call you Trance…"

"Am I that horridly dreamy…"

Getting up, he had crawled an inch or two, hovering over her satiated body, he had held her face within his palms again, and had rocked her being through a passionate kiss.

Nuzzling against her cheek, he had whispered back to her with reverence, "You are my dream come true, Mrs. Potter."

A wolf had howled, shattering the quietness of the forest around, this time quite close to the small settlement.

* * *

The war was over. It had killed Ron. It had killed her parents. It had killed half the magical population of Britain. With it came the ostentatious Magical Marriage Law. Faulty, manipulative and another tool to create a new rift in the slowly mending magical society. Hermione Granger was no longer a child. She was the first name brought up. She had to get married. Though her power to choose was not hers anymore. The clauses of the law saw it.

She was a Muggleborn. Thus, she had to marry a half-blood or a pureblood wizard. Or witness her wand to be broken, her identity to be erased, escorted by two Aurors through Diagon alley, and once those bricks of that famous wall retreat into their original places- this special world, her second home, no her only home, will be lost forever. The ministry had come up with some algorithm, and she knew who her suitor was before the ministry had that declared out loud. Who else could match her aptitude, her hunger for knowledge, her acumen for logical analysis and her capacity to invent marvelous spells? He was only second to her. Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Instead of a closed room, they had decided to discuss her fate in front of the public. In a courtroom like a huge hall. Set her as an example. And she had seen the platinum blonde head from the entrance itself. It was the first case in a row of several. And she was one of the victorious golden trio. Her fate was meant to be advertised. But the events of the day did not turn out as she had dreaded.

The ministry algorithm and arithmancy system had calculated an ideal absolute compatibility result. 100%.

* * *

As she stood there in the middle of his bedroom, shaking like a leaf, she had blinked away her tears, furiously. She had fought against monsters, tackled bigot villains, rode dragons, was claimed to be the Brightest Witch of the Age. But this was unknown territory. This was not a couple of stolen kisses she had with Victor, not that adrenaline pumped snogging before the war with Ron. This was consensually giving away her virginity. This was intentionally sealing her fate with a man. Yes, a man.

She never saw him as a boy. He was always a man. A grown-up. Vicious, biting, snarling, berating, man, strict, demanding. And she knew how fiercely he was capable of loving. She could not afford to close her eyes. Her honey-dipped brown eyes were locked into those black, penetrating, soul searching, powerful, fierce, wild, turbulent, obsidian ones.

They both were dressed in only tunics. The last farce, therefore, those officials had enacted an ancient bind spell, a soul bound. That cloth on him, made him look taller, paler, skinner and deadly cold. On her, she thought, unattractive and hideous. He would find her look like a doe trapped in a huge mess net, scared, jittery, petrified and innocent.

Somewhere a clock ticked and a bell rang eleven times. She took a shaky breath. It was now or never. And never was equal to her losing everything. Virginity was a small price to pay to secure a lifetime in a world that was all left to her. With trembling hands, she removed the only remaining barrier. And closed her eyes. She could have covered herself but that would be in vain. Closing her eyes might help her imagine things less terrifying. But she had forgotten, if one shuts one of the senses the other four heighten up.

She could hear the intake of his sharp breath. Then a rustle of cloth. Soft pads of feet slowly moving over. And warm air brushing against those locks which toss and turn over her temple. In his deep baritone voice, he had said, "Look at me."

She had gasped. It was not an order. It was not a rebuke. It was a plea. Her eyes flew open. He was much taller than her. His hair was not greasy instead it had a silk sheen. She tried not to look at his eyes, instead all by their own will, they traveled over his pale body. He was a study of anatomy. And the ultimate testament of war.

Slowly he had turned on his feet. She was shocked. If his front was like a crude map etched on the sand. His back was a tale of the remains of a once magnificent civilization. When he was back to facing her, she thought it was her turn to twirl for him. But a single bony finger, marked with nips and cuts and potion burns, had halted her. It had touched her. Right over the nick on her neck, a gift from Bellatrix. His eyes had grown soft. He was a contradiction. His finger had ghosted over her skin. And then it had traveled down, making its solo journey over her breast bone. Lighting unknown flames, like footprints on her skin. Then it stopped. Over that ridged long scar, that made her look distorted. He was now a thirsty traveler. His finger had drowned itself in the elixir called wanderlust. It scaled over those ridges, valleys, moving slower than a sloth. Memorizing its path, committing to memory the sights it has the fortune to lay eyes on. She was burning. And a single-digit had set her on this unknown fire.

The journey of his finger had come to a stop at the edge of her hip. She had felt its tremors. Then two fingers joined it. Like if one friend was incapable of standing after an exhausting journey by foot, two of his other friends took it upon themselves to support him.

All this while he had opened his mind to her. And Like a black and white cinema, she had seen his story told through emotions. And they called him, and an unfeeling bastard. He was starving. He was human. But they have used him as a tool.

She could hardly carry on. These images were torching her soul. His fingers were telling her, what all he was capable of. She had struggled with the need to say something.

In a shaky voice, she had murmured, "What do you want from me?"

His eyes had glowed, and she had noticed they were not black, instead, they were the darkest shades of brown.

In this dark dungeon bedroom, the candles had flickered and had cast grotesque shadows of two people. The fire in the hearth was the only source of warmth.

And now, his eyes were warmer, softer, compassionate, pleading, begging and groveling at her feet. He had taken a deep breath. It had traveled down his throat, filled the confines of his lungs. She had noticed that. And she had felt the exhaled warm, sweet, pine and sandalwood flavored gush of wind kiss her locks and made them dance again over her temple.

In his shaky voice, he murmured back, "Can you love me, Mrs. Hermione Snape?"


	4. Chapter 4

The regular disclaimer stays.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The requisition form had been staring at him for some time. And those officials were slowly tightening the noose around his neck. He was exonerated for his crimes. He was free, like that was what he wanted from them. He wanted to flee this god damned place. Seclude himself in the wilderness if he could help it. And he knew. He wasn't a consummate spy just by the drop of a hat. Right there, behind their beady eyes, he could see the trapdoor.

They told him in quiet, crisp and plain language. You should consider signing up, the form, should give yourself up for marriage. There has been a law passed by the Minister, all single men, and women, between the age of 15-45 are required to sign up the form." They have come up with some system based on algorithm and arithmancy, which was going to decide the compatibility ratio. Some loser's game was it!

"And if you deny it…well we will not put you in Azkaban. We will break your wand instead. And you will have high restrictions on the usage of magic. Heavy enough to pass you for a squib."

So, there he was. Standing beside his godson. Those ministry high collars were to decide the fate of the brain of the golden trio first, and then perhaps Draco's or his. He did not see Potter as expected. There was a story that Wonder Boy had taken off. Vanished in thin air. "This is a circus," he had grumbled to himself. "Three prominent figures coming out from the war, alive. Granger I understand. Heroine. Brightest Witch of the Age. With her taking the first blow of this pathetic law, they will make an example. And she is a muggle-born. It is clear enough; one war cannot wipe off the rust of outdated doctrines. And they are tackling that with recognizing, inbreeding as a nuisance practice. Mix them and play pick and choose," he had reasoned out. He was aware of the process but the Law was passed after he had gone underground.

Then, in a high pitch voice and a small diminutive plump woman had gushed about the ministry algorithm and arithmancy system calculating an ideal absolute compatibility result. 100%. Draco had stiffened on his seat, beside him. "The boy is here to set yet another kind of example. A standing pique for the later generations- how the fallen from grace are treated like dust below the feet of the ministry," he had snarled, and that had earned him a threatening look from few of the aurors standing beside him.

His inner dialogue with himself sounded more sane and believable than the ministry drivel being narrated to all the assembled wizards and witches. "And I am here because they have simply decided to switch those manacles from Azkaban and place marriage binding spells on me. From one unwanted cage to another undesiring domestic arrest."

Things had jolted him and sucked his breath numerous times. Severus Snape and Hermione Granger were 100% compatible. Draco had heaved a sigh of relief and he did see a ghost of a smile over his cracked lips. Like Fate would ever let him forget that Unbreakable Vow! He had stood up, walked up to the dais, and in swift penmanship signs his name and fate to oblivion. The girl was in automation. She too had walked up, stood beside him, her fingers plucked the quill he had offered, and in small soft fingers signed her name, right beside his, sealing herself to his fate.

The flash of bulbs, the drum rolls, and those milling faces did not get to see how both of them were shivering below their iron resolve. They had been ushered into a ceremonial room, separately stripped of their dignity, wrapped in glittering tunics. Then a profusely sweating ministry official had painfully kept smiling at them while he had chanted the archaic binding spell. Snape knew of that spell. It was something close to dark arts. Recalling its rather malicious counter effects, he had hastily broken into Hermione's mind and had tried to talk some sense.

He recalled how the girl would accept commands without questioning them. He had just remembered to make his words sound dictating and appropriate enough. "When you say the spell, mean it with your heart, or else this spell will kill you. It will be a slow agonizing death."

AHA! He was satisfied to see the dawn of terror in her eyes. Some things don't change! And the cryptic appeal to her bravery had worked its magic as well. In those short moments, he had witnessed myriad changes in the girl. Yes, girl, who was going to be his young bride. And his soul had whispered a vow of its own in his ears, "She will be my road to penance."

There were documents to sign, assets to determine. Again, they were shuttled into the Gringotts. The goblins do a rather quick job, creating a joint account, sealing bonds, and making their financial valuation look like that of a newly married couple. Throughout this odious test of his dwindling patience, he had done the most daring thing. He had held Hermione's hand, in his larger ones. Softly squeezing it, from time to time. Trying his best to make her feel, less alone, and more strong. And she did squeeze it back once. When he had felt inadequate, while the goblin was reading his meager assets aloud.

They were dropped in front of the Hogwarts gates, and the decree was read aloud once again. To live under the new regime of the newly appointed Ministry of Magic, they had to consummate this marriage by midnight.

Hogwarts, because he was still the potion master. The headmistress Minerva McGonagall had seen to that. But she was still recovering from her injury at St. Mungo's. And there truly was only Hagrid and Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris to greet the first newlywed.

* * *

And now, here they were. In his bedroom facing each other. This was ethereal. Never had a woman been in his bedroom. He had been to brothels. To keep up appearances. But he had loved once in his lifetime. And kissed once in his life. Neither did she love him back with the same ardor, nor could he recall that first and last kiss of his life.

Here standing in front of him was an angel. A young bride with chestnut flames of hair. A picture painted in dichotomy. And for the first time, he did not wish to demean her, mock her and keep quiet at the injustice done to her. He watched her battle with her wits. He watched her struggle with the surging emotions. And with each passing moment, he felt a sense of pride. Just like she had solved his puzzle in her first year, stolen from under his nose, made poly juice potion, had been the first to decipher that Lupin was the werewolf- her previous victories had made him proud in secret. There, just look at her! She was gradually standing taller and firmer. And he would want to protect this beacon of light and kindled hope, that that stepped inside his dark hell and blasted its melancholy with its exuberance.

The clock in his office ticked and the Hogwarts bell had gonged eleven times.

Fate must be having a wager at his expense, it must be chuckling on its own,"He is yet to be surprised!"When she stood there, her hand relishing the hold of the tunic and letting it fall softly beside her, for a moment he had forgotten the simple mechanism of breathing like a living being. She was shining like a bright star. And he stood motionless, blinded by her radiance. It had shattered him from within when he saw her eyes closed. He had been hanging on their radiating confidence and gathering his courage bit by it, throughout this testing day. He found himself once again drowning in the tempest sea of panic. He desperately needed to see her eyes. In a flash, realizing her insecurities, he had removed that glittering piece of cloth. Did he really have anything to hide from her? Softly walking up to her and he had appealed to her beating heart. "Look at me".

And she did. Her eyes had shown like two moons and relief had drenched his universe, purifying his blackened existence. He wanted more. He wanted and be wanted in turn. He had to show her; he was abomination redefined. Turning on his spot, he had revealed to her the sad history of his existence. She had looked at him instead with reverence. But she was truly naïve. When she had tried to make the mistake of displaying her skin to him, he had halted her. He never wished to gaze at her skin. He rather wanted to see what was the stream of pure elixir radiating below it.

Tentatively he had touched her neck. A spear of anger had threatened to tire his mind. But he decided already he won't hide anymore. He had mutely invited her to watch his life through his small collection of emotions. While establishing the already forming mental connection with her through the existing binding spell, he had let his finger, mark her. Remind her, how that nick on her neck, made her pulse throb. Now, when he had accepted this invitation to stare at it, he could see how different that tiny bump on the raised skin looked. He had trailed his hand in the valley of her chest. There right below her small ribcage, right under her sternum, was beating the heart of a lioness, beside whom he had honored to stand for the rest of his lifetime. And if she would permit it, he would make his heart stop, the moment her hearts decide to end this rhythmic dance of blood. He had not seen that scar grading her beauty until his finger had touched its raised surface. He had felt his throat turn dry, his tongue coarser when he had stolen small glances of her parting lips, and her glistening scar, he knew was Dolohov's handiwork. And the filth was dead. And here she was, standing in front of him.

Snape was the one to remove that signature dark spell of Dolohov, that night, and had sealed her anew. He had in the process bathed in her blood. But thankfully she was unconscious the whole time. It had taken him months to realize that the girl in his dreams, who died time and again, was still alive, attending his classes.

So now, he decided to worship it. Make her feel how fiercely beautiful it made her look. He had to see all those battles she had fought once again. Watch her like a captivated audience. And this journey through this remarkable past had exhausted him. He was too late to correct himself. He had allowed two of his other fingers to mark her hip.

And yet again, this angel in front of him had surprised him by surrendering her choice to him. Rocking him till the tip of his entity. In a shaky voice, she had murmured, "What do you want from me?"

In this dark dungeon bedroom, the candles had flickered and cast grotesque shadows of two people. The fire in the hearth sadly had been the only source of warmth.

Her eyes were burning with pure divinity. And he wanted to wish for things for the first time. Many things were suddenly crowding his mind. He had to ask one of those thousands of questions multiplying themselves…He had to decide. He had inhaled and then slowly exhaled. And had asked the very first thing, "Can you love me, Mrs. Hermione Snape?"

* * *

He was born the very day Harry Potter was born. But then the death eaters had come for his parents. Though Gran had been able to save him, his parents were gone too far. The cracked witch had seen to it. Perhaps he will never get to hear their voice. A child bullied and made fun of, still, he had stood his ground. Respected and showed compassion whenever required. No one knows, how deep the years of torture went. Scaring his mind. He was an example of Carrow's handiwork.

He had stood in front of the vile evil. He had reminded others why they had vowed to fight in the first place. But when he had swung the sword of Gryffindor and had cut the head of that hideous snake Nagini, in that instance, Neville Longbottom had shredded his old skin. And had grown up. Or grown quiet. No one played much attention. And he was fine with that. It helped to reorganize. To watch from the shadows, to understand the changing dynamics of this new world. He might not be as sharp as Granger, as quick as Malfoy, as brave as Harry or as strategic as Ron was- but he was all of it, given a little time and by investing a little thought and effort.

Interestingly nothing escaped Granger. But she was a confidant he could count on. And he was numb. Numb to the flashing light bulbs, numb to the questions being thrown at him. His soft friendly hazel brown eyes had grown hard, like flintstone. The boy that stuttered had suddenly developed the aura of making people grow quiet with unease.

And right before the war had ended, they had killed his Gran. The Parkinsons. Pretended to be neutral but acted as Voldermort's reserved foot soldiers. It was good for them the aurors had captured them soon and they would get the Dementor's Kiss, like Lucius Malfoy. But he was not at peace with the daughter, once his batchmate, getting thrown into Azkaban. Though rumours were ringing loud enough.

Neville had never asked for much. He truly never had much. But now he was tempted. By the ministry of Magic. By the public. By the fame, he had risen to. Harry Potter seemed to have guessed this all and had rightfully vanished. He was sure the best place to hide for his fellow Gryffindor was among the muggles. That man was much in need of peace. And Neville would always be loyal to friends' best interests. At least he would make sure that the world should believe in this version of the story.

So, when the beguiling representative from the Ministry of Magic, had dropped in, soon after he was back burying Gran, he was prepared. The day before the requisition forms of the newly passed Magical Marriage Law had been owed to him. Then yesterday's Prophet had declared the fate of the Parkinsons were decided by the Wizengamot, they would get the Kiss by the end of the day and their daughter would get a right for a trial, but clear enough that witch too would be put in Azkaban forever.

He had stood tall, still in all black, his shoes caked in wet mud from his Gran's grave. He had his back turned to the sweet spoken ministry official who had once again tried to make him accept the huge sum of money as compensation for a war veteran. They had already given him Merlin's first class.  
"Mr. Longbottom, we are truly aggrieved for your recent loss. It is a fact each one has lost someone or the other in that blood affair. But life goes on, sir. And money does make things smooth."

"I am aware, Mr Sickle Tank. But there is something more valuable than money. A woman's honour. I am afraid you cannot help me save that one."

The official had left in a hurry. He had gone to his superiors and who in turn had gone to their head of the management. That evening a harried Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had knocked at the front door. The moment he was allowed in, without much preamble he had solemnly asked, "Longbottom, whose honour do you wish to save?"

"Pansy Parkinson."

"How? And Why? Are you holding a personal Vendetta against the girl?"

Neville had simply stared back. His unobtrusive stare had given Shacklebolt a feeling, that this was no more a naïve boy. This was a commander, who had earned his respect in a very hard way.

"No. I will not, never, ever disrespect my future wife…", he had placed the folded paper on the minister's hand, Pansy Parkinson's moving picture staring back at them.

"Neville, I really can't…"

"And you don't need to…I wouldn't ask you to…I know how the algorithm and the arithmancy formulas work."

Throwing his hands in exasperation the minister had bellowed, "Then how can you make this mad demand?"

Waiting for the elderly ex auror to calm down, Neville had walked back to the table and had poured two glasses of firewhiskey. He had come back and given one to the minister, he had taken a swig from his own tumbler.

"You can stall her trial…that will make her stand innocent till proven guilty, and all innocent wizards and witches within the age of 17 and 45 are bound to sign up the requisition form."

"But how are you sure you will get her?"

"I will, you will recall, what all I have said, two nights before...your system is based on the same prototype, Granger and I had worked on while in school."

"I see, and the money…?"

Giving a quick glance at his already filled up form, the young man had handed it over to his esteemed visitor.

Walking up to the door, intending to see the Minister off, Neville Longbottom had surmised in an uncharacteristically grave voice, "War has left behind orphans to feed and to be taken care of. And there are still many martyrs to be buried and given a fitting farewell. Your honourable Mr. Sickletonk is a smart man, he believes- 'Money does make things smooth.'"


	5. Chapter 5

The regular disclaimer stays.

* * *

Chapter 5

A cold morning air had caressed him to the verge of wakefulness. The irony was, he had hardly slept for the last couple of months. Nightmares, life threats, screams of victims of unsavory torture and pure fear had kept him awake, shuddering, crying and searching for a single strand of hope to float for a while. Personal loss, loss of fate, loss of belief, his very soul was damned. How would he survive? What hope did he have to exist beyond this point? He was no longer afraid of death. He was afraid to live. Alone. He would surely kill himself. He was this close to sawing his left arm off. He was this close to cutting his own throat open. He was this close to giving up.

In each and every one of his nightmares he would see a woman subjected to torture. At times he would see her hair covered with blood. Platinum blonde, like him or like his Mother. His mother ...The dark lord gleefully tortured his mother because he had failed to kill Dumbledore. The dark Lord tortured her because Father had failed to carry out some other hideous task.

Or Aunt Bella torturing a woman. Very young, could have been someone from school. Red flaming hair, her head tossed and banged against the floor, again and again, because she would not give away the locations of her friends. Aunt Bella hovering over her cracking into lurid giggles. like Hyena. She would flick her wand now and then lazily, and in a singsong voice cast the dreadful spell. Because she was captured from the enemy camp. At times, the crackling death eater had her hair wound up in a tight fist. Blood dripped from her scalp.

Draco had woken up in his cell. This was a new day. Free from the reigns of the Dark Lord. The Boy who lived had successfully got rid of him. But the war had simply changed its course. This was no longer a war among wizards. This was a war among werewolves and wizards. Ironic enough, things had started long before Potter and his sidekicks had ditched school and had been on the run.

Fenrir Greyback was loyal to Voldermort's cause, but the heartless werewolf had his own agendas at play behind the curtains. They could hardly fathom his cryptic moves, in those early bleak days. Each one of them was so focused on the Dark Lord and the upcoming face-off between the Light and Dark Side. When a handful of death eaters had stormed in Bill Weasley's marriage ceremony, the wolf had kidnapped the bride's younger sister. Back in those days, all of them just knew she had been missing. That was all. The dark lord had hardly asked around, he was too angry to find they had missed capturing Potter once again.

Greyback and his pack had been waiting, plotting a surprise attack. As soon as the dark lord had died, he had disapparated along with his handful of pack members. During the battle he had succeeded in injuring Lavender Brown. Luckily, Blaise Zabini had been around to whisk her away to St. Mungo's, where the poor girl had managed to give death a slip. The alpha had returned that very night. He had attacked just before midnight, thinking since most of the wounded were housed in the school itself, he would manage to kidnap Lavender. Perhaps, capture some more people to add to his pack.

With the heavy presence of the Aurors and the able Order members, the pack had been forced to retreat. The DADA professor who had once again fought off the vicious beast had revealed a gruesome fact. He strongly believed that Greyback was collecting. He was capturing both muggle and magical folks and was forcefully maiming them, torturing them, biting them- his goal was to turn each one of them into new pack members. On the other hand, he was after young girls and young women, turning them into his kind. His aim was to mate them and force them to carry his cubs.

This notion had turned to be valid when, hours before, the Aurors had succeeded in intercepting a small pack of werewolves, who had tried to attack the Parkinsons. They were able to kill all of the wolves. One of them had supplied, "Alpha had sent us for the girl." Pansy Parkinson. They had missed her because they lacked crucial information. Throughout the battle, she had locked up in the dungeons along with the other Slytherin housemates. She did not appear until the battle was won. Once the Light was victorious, she was taken away in a holding house. Now, her parents would face trial, and perhaps they would be forced to get the KISS. As for Pansy, he could guess the same thing might happen. He did not have the energy to feel concerned for anybody, right at this moment. He had started feeling numb and lifeless once again.

Draco could only think of such things like, how little the window was of this tiny cell. How odd the air smelt? He was aware, autumn was yet to come. And the air flowing through the room smelt of dried leaves. He could only assume. For right after, the defeat of the dark lord, the murder of his mother, the capture of his father, Greyback loyalists trying to kill the Parkinsons, and getting killed by Aurors, Greyback himself turning up at Hogwarts looking for Brown- the order members and the able Dumbledore's army members had decided to nip the werewolf uprising at its bud. They had planned to lure away the alpha, and to launch a surgical attack at his Lair.

The Greengrasses had acted as the bait. The same informant from the wolf pack that was sent to attack the Parkinsons, had managed to share that the Alpha was too eager to have the Greengrass girls. With a blood boiling grin, he had slurred, "Ha! In fact, every girl and every young and ripe woman fits his desire to mate." Seamus Finnigan had narrated back to them how a very irate Blaise had slashed that already dying pervert's jaw open.

A handful of Aurors, including Seamus and Blaise had been ordered to lurk around the Greengrass properties. They were specifically asked to keep the pack and its notorious alpha engaged, save the family and only retreat once they had received a Patronus from the other party, that the main part of the plan was successful.

And "their planned attack at Greyback's Lair", had been successful. They had not only succeeded in killing some of the notorious werewolves of his rank but had also managed to save some of the captured witches and wizards. Though, they were too late to save Gabrielle Delacour. The young girl had died at childbirth. They were lucky enough to save the baby. His godfather and Remus Lupin had ensured that the newborn baby was healthy. He never got to see the child.

He had surrendered himself right before the team of Aurors. The snarling hands of the law were glad to get hold of the Malfoy Heir. He had resisted and had fought a mock duel, in order to help Severus, buy some time. His shouts and heated exchange of words with the Aurors had alerted the man still inside the labyrinth of caves. He must have got himself portkeyed away. Being the master spy, he was required in the field. The Aurors were yet to catch hold of the person.

Many didn't know, Finnigan and Blaise were aware of his true loyalty. They had escorted him to the interim holding house, where the ministry was keeping all those suspected death eaters. He was sure that Snape would be brought in as well. The order of the Phoenix had it all arranged.

Draco had grunted and had got up, holding his head in between his hands, he had groaned in frustration. Since Granger's torture at his manor, he has been having this singular nightmare. Her aunt had a girl pinned to the ground in their living room. Her blood had soaked the carpet below. After each bout of the Cruciatus curse, her hair had gradually started changing into waves of red. Weasley red. He had struggled to find an explanation behind this particular dream. Though halfway, he would shake himself off it. he was apprehensive and reluctant to delve any further. Indoctrinated in his father's beliefs, he still struggled to shrug off the dead man's lingering hold on his personal belief system.

The ministry officials had stormed into his small cell, soon after he had sat down to eat a modest breakfast. Some had snarled at him, and others had just watched him eat. Their head, perhaps some undersecretary of Kingsley had slid a heavy clipboard across the table. Draco had arched his brow at the poker-faced man.

"Save your antics Princeling, read that thoroughly, sign it and you shall have your bit of freedom. Eat, drink, sleep. Do whatever after we leave you to yourself. Oh! And we will get our hands on your precious Godfather in no time, even if you don't blabber anything. It is a matter of time, and we have it on our side, from now on."

A magical farm somewhere obscure, like Wiltmorshire. Quite far away from Magical Britain, and definitely far away from Hogwarts. He had never been to the farm. But he did remember seeing a rather idyllic country scenery back in the manor. It was the prime attraction of the sunroom and he loved watching how the summer sun would roll over the magical paint, reflecting its hidden shades and making the painting breath. Just like those portraits, this painting too would come alive.

In the past few days, he had signed and read through legal documents. He had heard through whatever those high collared ministry legal aids had droned out near his ears. He knew he had to hold on to his dwindling patience. Or else, Azkaban was just an apparition away. He had no doubt several of those scowling Aurors would be too happy to escort him there. He was not having any of that.

A few days later, his breakfast tray that would simply appear at the foot of the rickety cot, had an empty potion vial, labeled in Snape's scrawling handwriting, placed on it, by the regular loaf and porridge. The moment he had realized the significance of it, someone invisible had snapped his fingers and the vial had exploded in his hand. He was glad to learn Snape had arrived, though none of the prisoners were allowed to see each other. In fact, he didn't have the knowledge of who else was among the other prisoners. It was sheer luck, none of the guards had informed the other captured death eaters, or else he would have been long dead.

He had already signed the requisition form. He was prepared to go to the Ministry of Magic the very next day to get married under the watchful eyes of the Ministry officials. But to tell the truth, he wanted to flee. Live everything behind and hide from the magical world. He would not go all muggle, just stay away for a while.

Draco had finally met his godfather when they had been escorted to the Ministry. The man had simply nodded at him. But he had felt his presence in his mind.

Don't fret. Things have been taken care of. They will expect Potter to be here though.

And?

And what?

Nothing, I will figure the rest out.

This marriage thing…

They had the gale to rope you in as well.

Shut up! Listen, Greyback has some vicious plans. We need to work altogether. And All together would mean, whosoever is selected as your wife, ease off those differences, and work towards functioning as a team, are you following me?

Draco had gritted his teeth and had barked back in his mind; I am not my father!

That is still left to be proven to the other side, remember neither of us is off the hook, people will judge, people will abuse but we got to see past those. The War is still on, and we can not let Greyback have the last say!

Draco had seen Ginny Weasley and George Weasley enter the courtroom. They had walked up to Granger and Longbottom, the Gryfindor Know it all had been shooting daggers at him, but he had just shrugged. The chattering crowd around was already making him go mad. At least I can be thankful to Merlin. It is a relief to know she at least had one brother to watch over her. He had sneaked a glance or two to find the youngest Weasley sibling sitting ramrod straight. The surviving twin had hardly slept, he too sported signs of being stone drunk. Draco could hardly blame the man.

When they had called Granger's name, for a couple of moments, he had dreaded the fact that he was only second to the brain of the Golden trio in everything he could recall, apart from flying and playing Quidditch. He had tried not to gawk at the thought that Severus had been matched with the Know it all bushy head. He had whispered, "Good luck", to his godfather, when the man had stood up to walk up to the podium in front. Soon the first married couple had left the room.

The "process" as these cronies of the Ministry was referring to the couple sorting system was started once again. And moments later, it had blared "Draco Lucius Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley – compatibility percentage- 98.8%."

He could hardly make up his mind on whether to laugh, to reek or to dance like a mad man. Still, in shock, he had turned to look at his intended wife. She had turned and was staring at him as well. Blanched, and blotched, her eyes had gone wide with disbelief. Then she screamed on top of her lungs. "I am not marrying that greasy ferret".

* * *

The Ministry official the same plump woman had scrunched her face up in mock sympathy and had stated, "Why don't Mr. Dean Thomas, speak to both the parties in private, the ministry understands that many of the matches declared might come as a shock but, we are truly doing our very best for the general public. In these trying times, we want the public to support us. Or else things will get different for each one of us. We would hate to see our priced magical members living like squibs and muggles…Mr. Thomas please escort Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley, and Oh, why don't you, Mr. Weasley join those two…the presence of the family can do magic."

They had quietly left the room. The dim of the general public had drowned the moment those heavy doors of the courtroom had closed behind them. Dean had pointed out a spacious room to the left of the surprisingly deserted corridor. "This part is only permission to the access of the Ministry officials, "holding the door ajar, he had invited the other three inside, "We better get on within little hitch."

When all of them had settled around the simple table and four worn-out wooden chairs, the Gryffindor official had apologized, "I have to read out the Ministry decree to each one of you just to remind you of the consequences of defying the Magical Marriage Law. And I can choose not to do that, by simply telling you why all this is so very important."

He had then turned to Ginny who had been crying her heart out with a subdued George holding her in his arms. "Ginny I know how stubborn you can be, but I am pleading with you to understand that there is no escape from this law. And if you choose to defy this one, you are making yourself vulnerable."

Draco had noticed how soft the Gryfindor's eyes had gone and how delicately he was handling the situation. He could not stop himself from feeling a pang of jealousy burning a hole in his heart.

"Gin, the reasons are all staring back at you. All you need to do is look past your narrow, yes justified, but immaterial right at the moment, beliefs and accept Malfoy…You got to understand that several things are happening at the same thing. We need to rebuild the British magical world. We have lost too many of our dear ones. And more than anything we need to keep the people safe from Greyback and his nefarious plans. It is a known fact that he is out to overtake the magical world. Ginny it is our prime responsibility to secure each and every remaining survivor. The magical marriage bond is the only answer."

George had kept on holding his crying sister, patting her back, shooting daggers at Draco, gritting his teeth all the while. Dean had turned to him next, asking him to see reason," Greyback is not going behind Slytherins, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, he is abducting citizens of the magical world, young are equivalent to able bodies to him. Young women are equal to breeding bodies…" Ginny had exclaimed, but Dean had raised his hands to say, "not my words, Prof. Lupin's. I will leave the three of you to settle things and will be back in fifteen minutes."

He had opened the door, to find Seamus Finnigan standing at the other side.

In a tried but eager voice, he had asked," I was thinking if I could borrow Malfoy, it is urgent."

Dean had turned to the three people inside and had asked, "Malfoy, you can make this quick, and go with Seamus. Seamus, just bring him back to the courtroom in fifteen minutes, or else…"

Seamus still had the energy to quip, "you will be hanged and later feasted upon…"

Laughing out dryly Thomas had summed up, "Mate, I too am up for auction, like the rest of you, I too will return home with a tearful and hateful wife…perhaps, who knows."

"Good luck with that."

Turning to the rest of them, he had just said, "finish up quick, Malfoy, I still have some errand to run, if I am done with that, I shall be waiting outside with Finnigan."

When the door was closed, Draco had steeled his nerves and had looked directly at George, "Listen to me out, first. "

Ginny had snuggled close to her brother burying her head deeper into his arms, and George had given the other man a curt nod.

"I am handing over the Manor to the ministry after the ceremony. Your sister will never require to step inside that horrid house, rather I wanted to burn it down, but the Ministry had intervened. Both we both need to visit the graves of my parents- a last goodbye of sorts," looking at George's wand, he had said, "I will get back my wand, after I had handed over the Manor, in the presence of my future wife, the ministry will also put a detecting spell on it. I am not allowed to buy another wand, that probation stays till my first child is born," he had ignored Ginny's whimper," we will be staying far away from all these, at my great grandmother's country house, I will owl you the address later on. I will open a floo connection once we reach there and get it connected with the Burrows, so had your sister can talk to you and pay you all a visit whenever she feels like…"

George had nodded in understanding, and Draco had continued, "There is more…"

"What?"

"The ministry wants all of us to contribute in some way or the other in rebuilding the community. This means each of us need to have a job, or a business. I have surrendered everything my parents and grandparents had established under their names. But there are other things I would like to believe I am good at…"

Ginny had spat among the tears, "OH! Yeah! Like bullying and killing…or better plotting to kill"

In spite of the taunt, Draco had smiled slyly, "My dear, my acumen lies in softer skills."

Draco had requested Gringotts to send him a particular item from his personal vault through the ministry agencies. He now got that out from his breast pocket. It was a cubic navy-blue velvet box.

Passing it across the table he had gestured at George to pick it up. The brother had tentatively touched the box.

How predictable. He had drawled, "It is not jinxed, in case that is what you are wondering."

Ginny had peered at it as well. She knew what it could be. "So, you got a ring as well, how eager of you, ferret!"

Shushing his sister, the twin had opened the box. Inside a slit cushion lay a ring. It was shaped like a snake, its body coiled just once but nowhere touching itself. All through the platinum base, red rubies were placed, the smallest sparkled at the base, and the largest glinted at the head.

It was too simple for a Malfoy, but it was still a marvelous piece of art.

Draco had spared them a couple of moments to simply admire it. He was rather pleased to see Ginny staring at it in surprise. Mother was right, women can be tempted with glistening stars.

Seamus was still waiting for him. He needed to get over this obstacle here itself. He had fished out a bunch of parchments again sent back to him by the Gringotts through a high-end Parisian jeweler.

"The validity of that ring, and the other spells that are placed on it by the maker…whether the stones are genuine or not…everything that one would doubt about it, is explained, confirmed and verified, by both the goblins and the Parisian jeweler's guild. There is also a second parchment from the British magical jeweler's guild confirming the same."

He had kept the parchments on the table and had left the room. Ginny was still awestruck at Draco's solemn speech. She had taunted him but he had ignored each one of her jibes. For the first time, she realized she was looking at a changed man. A new man. The only common thing perhaps was just the name. Draco Lucius Malfoy, the rest might have died away with the war.

She had whispered aloud, "Or, all of this a bluff."

George had read through the documents and had heaved a sigh. He had rearranged Ginny in his arms so that she was facing him now.

Look at me Gin".

When his sister had managed to stare back at him, he had smiled back affectionately.

"Gin, we need to see the bigger picture here. Voldy got killed but that grey mutt is seriously trying to kill, and turn everyone into werewolves. Remember what Lupin said before he died, 'he is after young women and girls.' Remember what happened to Gabrielle, Gin I want you to be safe and secure…"

"No, not like this…"

"Gin, sweetie, this is the best available option. The marriage bond will keep you safe. You can kick the ferret's ass, as much as you feel like, but adjust, stand by him, he means good, "pointing at those parchments, he had continued pleading, "look at those parchments, that ring carries pretty strong protective spells, and also ancient wards, that is a complete well-thought-out shield for you. And the bloody shocker of all! That Malfoy, had made it, bloody bonkers!"

"What!"- snatching the parchments from the table the youngest Weasley had read through them for the first time. She had turned to her smiling brother and had whispered in awe, the parchments had fallen off her loosened grip," Malfoy tinkles with jewelry…! Why isn't this a huge buff, a bad joke!"

"Gin, just think about it, you won't expect Malfoy doing something like this, but he has, I don't like the way this sounds, but I will still say it, I would like you to give him a chance to prove, and I will make sure I am just a floo call away." He had hugged the trembling girl in his arms burying his nose in her hair.

"George, what about you? You can't stay alone at the Burrows…"

"Hey! Sis, remember all of us are getting married either today or in the days to come…I might as well snag one of the beauties, and whisk her off in my high castle."

"George!" she had huffed and had slapped his chest.

The two siblings had stayed wrapped in each other's arms a little longer. Ginny had noticed how the twin still smelt of firewhiskey.

"Georgie?"

"Yes?"

"Don't drown yourself in a barrel of firewhiskey. I don't know who will be matched with a prankster like you, but Mum and Dad would have wanted you to behave like a good son. You can at least do that for them and for me, and for Charlie, Bill and Fleur. Be good to your future wife. And tell those three, I will be fine, I will try to come and visit them, whenever I get the chance…"

"Gin, why don't we all try to live one day at a time…"

"Sounds like a good plan."

The two had beamed at each other and had hugged each other once again. They were ready to take on whatever this crumbling world around them had planned to dish out. One day at a time.


	6. Chapter 6

The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR. This one is an interrelated fic.(np)

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Chapter 6

Neville was first to appear at the Ministry of Magic. Shacklebolt had managed to get an empty room and had explained to him that the jury members of the Wizengamot were ready to let go of Pansy if he was ready to attest that he was capable enough to keep her under house arrest for a period of six months. Neville had stood there in front of a nearly empty courtroom, at the nears two hours earlier for the office hours to start and had bargained for three. Grumbling they had agreed. The witch was not able to use her wand for the period. Neville was fine with that.

Shacklebolt had still argued about why he was so interested in Pansy. Neville had given him the same reply. "Saving a woman's honor."

It had actually been two weeks after the war had ended. And apart from the capture and trial of the death eaters, the magical marriage law was the other grand program launched by the Ministry. They were trying their best to project that they were truly intending to do something for the betterment of magical society.

He had noticed Snape and Draco Malfoy walking in. It was common knowledge within the Dumbledore's Army during the last stages of the countdown to the battle that Malfoy was the second in command spy planted by late Dumbledore. His innocence had been proven at the court. And pieces of evidence collected from the portrait of the former headmaster and those provided by Aberforth Dumbledore had saved the young Malfoy from rotting in Azkaban.

But as the wizarding community had incurred quite a loss in the hands of the Malfoy family, he was needed to pay a hefty compensation. Though the details of it were still not made public. Lucius Malfoy had killed his wife for lying about Potter's death. And Malfoy had truly been quite happy to see his father humiliated and dragged away to Azkaban. That night he had received the Kiss.

Hermione had walked in next. Having spotted him, she had come down the gallery steps and had sat beside him. She was to be the first one to go, they were aware of it.

She had turned at him and had said, "In moments, I will be shoved in Hell."

Neville had shrugged and had asked, "Why?"

"Because I will be tagged along with the ferret."

Neville had given her a sly smile and had whispered," Granger you never know."

Ginny and George had joined them too.

Authur and Molly Weasley had succumbed to the injuries sustained at the Battle of Hogwarts. So had Percy and Fred. Bill and Fleur had been wounded and were recovering at 's Speciality Ward. And Charlie Weasley had been commissioned by Gringotts to secure their banks. Since it was a high-security job, he was pardoned from this fiasco of Marriage law, till his tenure with the goblins ended.

He had simply abided by whatever the official had been asking him through swift nods and hushed confirmation. But his eyes were glued on the witch who would soon be his wife. She had looked ill at ease. She was definitely weak and ill-fed. And not cared for. During the grandeur ceremonial binding procedure, conducted within a sealed-up room adjoining the courtroom, she had first looked at him, and really honestly looked at him. Her eyes had searched for some unfathomable recognition. And Neville had felt that even for a split second, the snobbish, pug face of Slytherin, had looked more like a girl lost, alone and desperately looking for help. He had, for his own part, meant well to keep to the ancient binding oaths. The fact that the magical glowing cords intertwined around both of their hands had glowed the accepted shades of Gold and red, had given him some peace. Even though he had his own reasons to marry the daughter of his Gran's murderers, the magical spells had looked passed the social stigma attached.

And Pansy Parkinson, the last of the surviving Parkinson's looked more than acceptable in the beige tunic she was made to wear.

Due to the special circumstances of his arranged marriage, he had been able to skip the Gringotts. They as a couple could visit it once her probationary house arrest period would end without setbacks. The aurors had directly escorted them to Nevile's Gran's cottage. As soon as the marriage had got officiated, Pansy had been giving him nasty looks. But once the aurors had secured the place and seen to it that Neville had kept away Pansy's wand safe and warded, they left the couple to themselves.

Neville had turned and had given Pansy a small but confident smile. He had addressed her for the first time," Hello, Mrs. Longbottom."

Making a face of utmost disgust, Pansy, had spat at him and had dashed away to find some way to escape. While she was off, Neville had simply sat down on a chair, waiting for her to return. Absent-minded, he had twirled his wand.

She had tried every single window and door. But nothing had budged. Instead, each time she had touched a latch or a doorknob that opened to the outside of the cottage, her hands had singed. She was crying and her palms were now both burning and aching. She had slowly walked back to the living space, where Neville was still sitting. She was feeling awful and resting her back to the doorframe, she had looked over at Neville. He, on his part, had simply stared back at her, mildly interested.

She was standing there holding out her badly bruised hand. Gathering so strength and bringing forth her high-born attitude, she had said, "I heard that you killed that slimy snake. Thought, you were Prince in shining armour…" she had tried hard not to gag at those words, "let me go, or simply let me die…I didn't know that Dada and Mum were asked to…I am sorry…"

"No, you are not sorry. Not yet."

She had whispered and had sounded defeated. She had restored to begging now, "Please, please aren't you the good ones…please…"

"You know -  
'If a werewolf is in human form and bites the victim, they will merely gain lupine tendencies such as a fondness for rare meat. Any bite or scratch obtained from a werewolf even if inhuman form will leave permanent scars. However, the fresh wound can be sealed with a mixture of powdered silver and dittany.'

Pansy's head had snapped up and she had stared at Neville in utter panic.

She had started stuttering, and shaking her head in denial, had yelled at him, "What are you mumbling about, fame and money, got you all crazy, huh?"

Neville had got up suddenly, the tunic on him, had defined his muscles and broad chest. Pansy had backed up and had hit the wall. She had desperately tried to hit Neville with her burned hands. And the much stronger, Gryffindor had her pinned to the wall. His large frame had caged her small body, two hands safely secured in one of his large palms. To stop her from hitting him with her head, he had trapped her face, with his other large palm, in a sure and firm grip, but had made certain he was not hurting her.

"I also know, two nights before the battle you had had enough dittany, but you had dropped most of the silver, in sheer panic…so tell me Pansy, where did Fenrir bite you or touch you?"

* * *

Pinned there on an ordinary wall. Her hands held above her head. In one firm grip. Her face nestled within the warm, solid, calloused large palm. Her breath hitched. Her eyes remained locked with his, unblinking. Her tears fell free. Pansy Parkinson nee Longbottom felt both the dawn of relief and fear.

Relief that someone knew. Fear that he will, like all other Slytherins, use that information to his benefit. She had noticed, he had grown taller, noticed, his voice breaking, noticed, those burning embers hidden behind his droopy eyes when she with a couple of her fellow housemates had tried to make a joke drag too long. She had seen Crabbe and Goyle torture him. And knew Alecto Carrow harbored a dark fascination for him. She had called him her personal whipping whelp. But she never bothered to know what happened behind those barred doors in those special dungeon segments.

But the man studying her from just a couple of millimeters away was indeed a man who has seen too much. He had seen death and had killed with his very own hands. Swung a bloody huge sword. And had beheaded that blood-curdling snake. And that very hand was cradling her face. Firmly yet soft enough not to bruise her. And she remembered she had wanted that for a long time. This was new, not an act. Real, and not a pretense. But her eyes had already adjusted the shades of grey of existence. And, her understanding of the world as either saint or a sinner had thoroughly refurbished. It was a kaleidoscope. Turn a saintly looking face upside down, you can see the sins it is capable of committing. And the trick was to know the capacity of the opponent in committing the crime against you. She could not decide right at that captivated moment, whether those burning flint stone eyes belonged to a devil-possessed man or a heaven's angel banished down to earth.

She had read those banned books of Muggle religion and sects and cults. She had truly marveled at their art and architecture. But had hidden her fascination well. Now all that glory, luxury and sense of belonging were lost. Parents dead. Friends either killed, or imprisoned for life, or they didn't care enough to check on her. She cracked like that huge glass ceiling of the Slytherin common room. Her copious tears fell like the lake's waters swelling in through huge fissures expanding over the glass surface. The barrier finally broke free.

Neville held on to the hysteric witch. His resolve to treat her clinically cracking at the seams. He was unsure to deal with feelings. Having lived life through borrowed affection and relayed reassurance, He knew he did have too much love to give to someone. But he could not trust. He could not bear his heart open. He could not breathe free without checking behind if any sinister plot would ruin his peace of mind. If anyone understood Professor Snape's paranoia, it was one caldron melting Neville Longbottom. Funny Granger had proven if he could remove the notion of Snape lurking around, forget about his robes brushing past his desk, he too was an exceptional potion maker.

But this was more than potion. This was mixing his heart with that of his reasoning, mixing his brain into a dark sea of imagination. And Pansy's two pools of dark chocolate eyes were openly inviting him. Like a sailor lost in the sea, gravitating towards the song of a siren singing somewhere within the mist rolling over the sinister waves.

He had to break free, and he saw the only way out. He must close his eyes. And ironic enough reprieve as short-lived as the distance between two seconds of a timekeeper. She had whispered back, the bite in her voice prominent, "You are delusional Longbottom."

He could no longer help it. He never imagined relishing such power over a woman. Meek and submissive through his growing years, this was like new-found freedom. And he was tasting this exotic flavor with all his five senses. His eyes were drinking hers. His lips were tasting her breath. His eyes were listening to the rapid inhalation and exhalation and he thought this was calming. Her hair was brushing against his arm. Leaving goosebumps. And he could feel her racing pulse. The hands trapped under his large palm were tinkering like a watch. And the one drumming right below his palm that was still gripping her jaw had started making his heart dance to its erotic rhythm. He was too close to think about how her lips would taste. Many men had already tasted the nectar trapped within those petals. And for the sake of that slowly developing illusion he had risked his own entity and had taken a blind leap of faith. He had said in husky low murmurs, "Then Mrs. Longbottom, let me be for first and last lover."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

Chapter 7

Draco had found both Seamus and Dean waiting for him outside. Approaching them, he had simply muttered, "where to now?" Dean had gestured ahead.

All three had walked down the corridor, surprisingly this one was still deserted. There were several doors on both sides. Dean had tapped his wand at one and the door had opened with a soft click. The three had quietly walked in.

Draco had noticed a table surrounded by four empty chairs, right in the middle of the sparsely equipped space. It is similar to the previous room, where George and Ginny were still waiting, but this one looked more like an interrogation room.

Dean had read his stiffened stance and had confirmed, "Yup, this is the place they grill offenders, but for us, this is a safe haven. The listening devices are shut, and no one can hear us through them."

Seamus had leaned against the wall; he did look worse to wear. Draco had looked at both of them. It was getting harder to take in the suspense any longer, irritated, he had barked, "What is going on now?"

Dean had grown solemn and had muttered, "Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass died at St. Mungo's. They have succumbed to the fatal attacks Greyback had inflicted on them, on the same day you all had successfully invaded Greyback's Lair... Mrs. Greengrass died last night and Mr. Greengrass expired at dawn."

Worried about the safety of his housemates, "what about Stori and Daph?" whirling back to Seamus, he had growled, "You were supposed to keep them safe!"

Seamus had shouted back," And I did! Literally dragged both the girls through the tunnel underground, while that werewolf was chasing us, only a well-aimed freezing spell could buy us time enough to escape. Goodness, why do your mansions have to have those maze-like tunnels, as if Hogwarts dungeons weren't enough to give me the creeps!"

Combing his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, Draco had sighed in relief, and had muttered, "Sorry, Thanks… where are…?"

Dean had supplied, "Both of them were kept in a safe house for some time, away from the prying eyes, but they are here now, I could ensure that their requisition forms get accepted today, and I do have the prior information as to with whom they would be paired."

Perplexed the Slytherin had spoken out slowly, "Why are you sharing this high-level information with me? You know who is going to be matched with whom from the beginning? The matched couples...there is a list of this ready in your hands, you have access to this kind of information?"

"No, not all of us, only the Minister and his immediate subordinates, I was made aware of these facts so that I could pass on this information to you."

"Why?", curious at this revelation, Malfoy had inched closer to the ministry official.

"Because Kingsley wants you to make the other Slytherins realize that they need to band up. We would like you to convince the Greengrass girls to agree to abide by the law. Greyback had marked them out, he might come back, just like he did for Lavender. We need them under the marriage bond protection as soon as possible.

Nodding in agreement, Draco had pressed on, "Who are their matches?"

"According to inside information, the process would pair Astoria Greengrass with George Weasley and Daphne would be under Seamus's protection."

"Mate, please don't sweet coat it. I still don't like the idea of marrying an underage girl!" Seamus had whined.

"Finnigan, you better treat her well, she is like a sister to me," Malfoy had warned.

"I am an Irish man, Malfoy, we protect our own to our graves and beyond."

Dean had cut in, "Malfoy, we need you to make both the girls understand the situation. For Astoria to marry George could be a shock. The poor man has lost most of his family after he had lost his twin, the general rumour about him is like this, the man drinks like a whale, his Joke Shop stays locked down, his business is failing."

Rubbing his palm over his face, Dean had continued, "Malfoy, we want to rely on Astoria here. She needs to bring that sinking man around. George needs to be back into action. He just does not invent mind-boggling pranking stuff. He also creates innovative supplies, potions, and whatnot. He shows promises, great ones. We all had seen the twins' firework grand exit at Hogwarts. We truly, badly need him."

"Okay, I will talk to Astoria, she is quite intuitive. I am sure she will reason. What about Daph?"

Seamus had mellowed down. Draco could make out the pang of remorse in the passionate Irish man's voice, "The lil one is in shock. She had held onto my hand so tight; I was sure it would peel off."

"Shut up Seamus! the healers at St. Mungo's say, she had been in shock. She is yet to say a word. And just like Seamus had said, she is clinging on to him, when Astoria is not around."

"I see," mulling over this new information, Draco thought, maybe there was some validity in this weird "process' and the way it harped on the magical affinity of two magical persons. Maybe Daph was inclined to Seamus for the same reason.

"We will also have to talk to George and Ginny, since all of you, would end up being related in one way or the other."

Getting up from his seat Dean had nodded at the other wizards and had made his way to the closed door.

"Seamus would take you to the Greengrass girls. I better head back to talk to the Weasleys."

Turning back from the door, Dean had given Draco a hard look," Malfoy, you better treat Ginny well, I know about handing over the Manor, about the protective ring, about your Great Gran's secluded place. I appreciate the length you went to protect your future wife. We too had thought Granger would be selected, but, well, now, Professor Snape is to ascertain her safety. You got Ginny. I am warning you, because, there was a time, I had loved that girl before Potter came into the picture. I still have her best interests in my heart. Make her sad or hurt her, I will break the bones of your pretty face, just like Granger did."

The door had stung close rocking at its hinges.

Draco had stared at it for a long while. First George, and now Dean Thomas, all threatening to skin him at the drop of the hat. He had chuckled to himself, lady luck seemed to be in his favour today.

"Before we go and talk to the Greengrass sisters, I need to tell you some things, Malfoy."

Seamus had come and occupied the Dean's empty chair.

He had laughed humorlessly, "Odd! You and me talking, School brawls were too black and white, now, out of Hogwarts robes, we are men."

"True." Draco had wondered when was the last time he had given the Irish man some credibility. He had been too wrapped about Potter and his two sidekicks. The man sitting in front of him looked tired and seemed much in need of a shower and a good night's rest. He was sporting a stubble as well. Out of those school uniforms, Seamus Finnigan had slipped into the Auror training gears in much ease. He had looked quite comfortable in them as if he was born to wear them. That Dumbledore's Army had made them grow up faster, much ahead of the rest of the school. Draco was in the inquisition squad in the first year of its making. But today he envied Finnigan.

Clucking his lips, Seamus had looked at Draco and had said, "I live in a muggle locality, I am half-blood. I live as a tenant above my distant aunt's bakery. She is a squib. It is a small town in Ireland, I can't tell you the name of the place here. They say walls too have ears or something like that. It is a muggle expression. My dad and mum were killed by death eaters, they have a cottage near the seashore. I don't know how things will work out. I would first like to keep Daphne in the apartment. I had a chat with my aunt, she had agreed to look after the girl, while I am at work. Trust me, I am freaking out. Funny telling you all these, but I figured you would want to know that she is safe. "

Draco had nodded and a suggestive tilt of his head had made the Irish man relax a bit. He had continued.

"Are you aware that we can work around this marriage bond a bit. I mean, there is a clause, a genius addition by Granger actually. Since we are putting up many underage witches for marriage, 'the process' allows the couple to treat the bond like an engagement vow. Neville says, 'it is more like kiss and tell' I don't know what that means- but I am guessing it is more like the courting period in a normal relationship between the intended couple. I mean you don't really need to fuck. You just, kind of live-together. I would like to consider this bond with Daphne in the same way. You have my word, Malfoy, I will protect her no matter what."

"Then, that is all I need to hear."

"Good, that settles it then, we better…"

A memo had flown in through from under the closed door. Finnigan had caught it with a practiced hand.

"This gives us some more time. The Ministry has rescheduled your ceremony. It is now postponed for an hour."

"…gives me time to explain things out to Stori." Realizing he had intended to ask for his friend, Draco had inquired, "How is Blaise?"

"He is at St. Mungo's. That Italian stallion is set to marry just like us. Kingsley is down there. Zabini was matched with Lavender. She is all healed up. But her safety is of high priority. Did you know, Zabini is related to Shacklebolt, I mean through one of his stepfathers. The minister has arranged for the married couple to live in a highly guarded place. Whether the Aurors would be deployed or not I am not quite sure."

He had then chuckled, "He calls her something like ragazza perfum…'

Draco had smirked, "la mia ragazza profumo"- I have heard him mumble that quite often, never could imagine he was sweet on Won Won."

Seamus had stared sharply at him and then had lowered back his eyes at the table, "We better keep Ron out of all these, Lavender had dearly loved him, whether you like it or not. Blaise tells me, she is a nasty work of scars, worse than anything we have seen. That man needs her to warm up to him, and the mention of Ronald Weasley…'

"I understand. I will try not to mention Ron Weasley. Even if I am marrying his sister. Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

"Blaise has requested that you don't go looking for him. Unless of course, he is willing to get in touch with you."

"That is fine, I too am not very keen on the company, right at the moment…can we see the Greengrass sisters now?"

* * *

She had been haunting him for quite some time.

Many of the sympathizers of Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Army and the young members of the Order of the Phoenix were now hiding in the Room of Requirement. And those students had unanimously voted Neville Longbottom as their leader. It was mostly the three houses. Camping, on their guard, barely sleeping. The estranged brother of Albus Dumbledore, Aberforth, the keeper of Hogsmeade Inn, was the one to help them smuggle in food and water. And the elves could only help, as long as they could go undetected. Though many of the Hogwarts elves had broken rank and had joined the party of young witches and wizards.

And it was one such mixed party of a few elves working as scouts, a handful of students, who were just returning after making the arduous trip to the Hogsmeade village down the hill. Neville had insisted to take the rear guard while returning. And Spots, one of the defacto elf had been by his side. Most of the members of this close-knit troop had safely returned. But an incident had deterred Neville for a while.

In one of the empty and abandoned corridors, he had stumbled upon a ghastly event about to take place. Fenrir Greyback had a trembling Pansy Parkinson backed up into an alcove. And the girl was worst to wear. The beast-like man was chuckling brutishly. But Neville could detect the torture the mute victim was suffering. With Spots in tow. He had devised a plan to help the girl. She wouldn't reciprocate the gesture if the tables were ever turned. But Neville was the son of two respected Aurors and a Gryffindor. His sense of justice had made him convince Spots to distract the werewolf long enough. Disillusioning himself, He had crept into the alcove, and had picked the girl in tattered robes in his arms. The castle had responded to his quiet plea. It had opened a pathway to one of the prefect bathrooms near the Slytherin common rooms. By the time the death eater had made back to where he had left his prey, she was long gone.

Though Neville was a gentleman enough, not to pry, he could read the telltale signs of molestation, or attempt to assault. The Carrows had made him see stark examples. He had made a rule for every student to carry a small bundle of necessary potion phials. And these were stupendously delivered by the most trusted elf of the headmaster, death eater, Severus Snape. He had left a bottle of silver and a potion phial of dittany tucking them inside of Pansy's feeble hands. Before leaving, he had felt the need to whisper words of encouragement. "Be safe. Hope. I will save you."

Mr. Longbottom had his newly married wife pressed against the wall, her chest heaving against his own. Had he ever thought, he would once in his life, think, Pansy Parkinson, stinks so horribly, that she will need a thorough bath accompanied with vigorous scrubbing? But this fiery witch had called him delusional and he should have a wordy reply. He smirked, "You stink."

There he had said the word that broke her resolve in pieces. And it was beyond his imagination how a woman could still be so desirable. Like a veela or a siren.

He thought what harm it would be if he kissed her. She was his legal wife. Until now, He had not really kissed. So, he dared. He had leaned forward. And then she kicked him hard. If Hermione knew how to throw a punch, sure why not, Pansy could knee. He had tumbled back growling in pain. Free from his hold, she had made a dash for the nearest open door. Growling in pain, but not too hurt, Neville had lunged after her.

The sooner she had made past the door, she had realized her mistake. This was a bedroom. Turning she had found Neville standing, blocking the door frame. Terrified and at loss, she had started whimpering.

"Please, please, I will be good. Please don't…please…"

He did step inside the room and softly closed the door to his bedroom. But he simply kept staring at her. She wasn't able to understand what exactly he wanted from her. Was he enjoying the chase, just like Fenrir did? Was he getting high from the pleasure of the hunt? Then confused, alone, she couldn't take it anymore. She had ripped off her tunic. Bared herself to him.

And her body had given Neville the answers to his question. Her body had series-long claw marks, not deep but bad enough. That monster had enjoyed tiring her skin. Leaving long steady bruises that had not healed properly. She would not bleed. But if he was to lay his eyes on her, he would get his sadistic fill. Neville's personal experience under Alecto Carrow was proved enough.

Pansy was reeling in grief. Her world was now drawing to an end. Death was merrier. She was barely able to keep it together. As a last stand of defense, she had yelled at him, "what, don't like what you see! What too sully for a Gryffindor now, you are all high and mighty now are you?"

Neville had kept staring. Quietly. Waiting. She had sat down on the ground overwhelmed. Holding herself in her arms, she had cried and hiccupped mercilessly.

Then suddenly, she felt him. He had slowly knelt before her. She had closed her eyes in disgust. And that made her hear his breathing loud and clear. So much in control. Could she ever have thought of a day like this one? She had felt something heavy being wrapped around her. Startled she had looked about. He had placed a blanket over her.

Yes, this was the Neville she was familiar with. The one that carried for his fellow classmates. Not just Gryffindors, but others too, provided they were cordial enough. But she could not remember one instance, where she was even a fraction of a spoon nice to him, in all those seven years.

Pansy thought, burying her shame, her honor deeper into the warm blanket, values of life were truly a kaleidoscope. And Neville Longbottom was citing an image of perhaps several such parallelly existing games of glass pieces inside strips of mirrors facing each other.

Baffled and bewildered, she had jerked back a little, when she had felt him cradling her bruised palms in one his larger ones, for closer inspection. He had already started showing his evening stubble. A long nose and a stout chin, eyelashes not quite dense. But eyebrows thick, defining the arch of his temple. His ears were still red.

Sitting there on the floor, crossed legged, the man had held her hands like she was made of glass. A menagerie. Fat tears were still rolling down her almond-shaped cheek when she had tensed at the sight of a scented healing balm beside him.

She had often seen him tend to samplings. Quietly singing to them, when no one was looking. In the same, caressing brush of his fingers, he was applying the salve over those singed marks. As she had studied the slowly healing palm, Neville had let his gaze run over her exposed calf and thigh.

Turning his face to his task at hand, he had gritted his teeth. And a feeling of rage, guilt and remorse had churned up in his stomach. He would not lose it in front of her. She was already paranoid. It would do her no good if he was going to behave like a raging Spanish Bull. An expression he had picked up from the late Colin Creevey. No, he would not gain anything from dwelling in the past. If he could help in securing the present, he mused to himself, as he got up from the floor, now was the best time.

Before Pansy could realize, she was lifted off the floor. By natural instinct, she had wound her flail arms around his neck. And accidentally, her nose had brushed against the side of his neck. He had peered at her with hooded eyes, for a couple of minutes and then in long strides had walked ahead. Standing beside his bed, he had softly placed her on it.

Feeling the soft bed and the down pillows below her after several days, the first thought had been, this is bliss. But with Neville still lingering and hovering about, studying her minute reaction, Pansy had grown alert. Trying her best to crawl away from him, she had started pleading to him again, "Please…"

In a blink of an eye, he had backed off, turning on his heels, he had walked off of the room. Baffled, she had leaned off the bed, trying to see what he was up to now. The moment she had heard his footsteps, after several tense minutes, she had crawled away.

He had brought a tray. There was a jar of water, with an empty glass beside. A bowl of steaming hot soup and half a loaf of freshly baked bread.

He had placed the breakfast tray on the bed itself. When he had heard the soft "oh!" Looking up, his eyes met with those pairs of dark chocolate ones of his wife, selected by the ministry. He had given her a small smile, and nodding at the table, had softly whispered, "Eat!"

One sentence had got itself logged in her brain, "He got me food, He went and got me food." But her dormant Slytherin traits had kicked in, eyes still wet with tears, she had crooked her head and had studied him. Testily, she had asked, "Are you planning to fatten the hen and then kill it?"

There was already a set of cutleries placed beside the bowl and the side dish. Now Neville had brought out another set in his pocket, smirking at her, he had dipped the spoon in the soup and had slurped it. Next, he had torn a piece of a loaf and had placed it inside his mouth. Slowing, tenderly, he had chewed on them. Pansy had licked her cracked lips. His flint stone eyes had not left her face for a single second. The seconds ticked. They both kept their vigil. Then the wife pounced on the tray. Out of habit, she had picked up the spoon and had cried out in pain. In utter dismay, she had looked up! With her bruised palm, how was she about to eat. Those would still take another hour to heal.

In his much familiar genial voice, Longbottom had shrugged and had sat down beside her, "It is alright. Here, I can help you with that. And please, no more crying. Can we agree on that? Please…"

Gawking at him, like she must have imagined him with three heads, Pansy had gulped down the offered food. Half an hour later, the emotionally and physically exhausted new wife had laid down on her husband's single bed. And the man in question had tucked her in. Brushing her hair gently off her face, he softly asks her, "I had said, Hope. I shall save you. Now, get some sleep."

* * *

A/N: la mia ragazza profumo- roughly translates into "my perfume girl" in Italian, if you disagree, beat up google translate, and before that, give me the exact translation. :)

I read somewhere, "a child has been dictated over in his childhood, repressed puberty, and a fumbling transition between childhood and adulthood, under the conditions, if he is exposed to depressing, threatening life-changing events, he will have confusing ways to deal with the world for some time. the Neville we are familiar with would cry his heart out at the death of his Grandmother, but mine is too quiet for comfort.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

Chapter 8

In his shaky voice, he murmurs back, "Can you love me?"

Hermione could no longer recognize the reality from the illusion. The past was getting shattered in a space of a few hours. Those fingers that rest on her hip were honest. The breath tickling her crown was serene and sincere. And the sculpture standing a breath away was alive. And then the other finger of the other hand. Long, bony, sure and shy. It danced over her free hand. Tiptoeing over her fingers. Turning white into creamy pink. Like winter must truly leave forever. And the promise of spring whistles in the warm air. It ghosted over her knuckles. And then traveled up. Further. A lone monk, hermit, walking on a lone path through the heart of a cold desert. It crept up her throbbing vein. Coming at the juncture, where her palm ended and her wrist began…

Then it stopped. Right over her pulse. Feeling it. Like a person felt emotions. Feeling it like a prayer whispered in the darkest of the hour. Feeling it like the first shower of monsoon in the tropics. Deciding that it had rested enough, it started its ascent. Over new ridges. The brand she had received for being a witch but of another kind. But this single tip of this finger, with its barely-there, the pressure was not reminding her of her exclusive torture. It was instead, defining her. Tracing her entity like a letter of praise. She shuddered once again. Her eyes kept looking into his. His eyelids didn't flutter like that of butterflies. And even if they had fluttered once or twice, she could hardly catch those movements. His lips moved. And his words washed over her. Like the rays of the sun right after it rose. "Scars define us."

She had to know now. Desperately. Urgently. Whether it was a fallen angel standing in front of her. Whether it was a ghost. Whether it was one of those fragments of dreams she had been having since the moment she had seen him bleed and nearly die. She snatched her hands away from his touch. His eyes burnt once but withdrew their heat, the moment she placed her palms flat on his chest. Skin to skin. There right under her small palm. His heartbeat. A rhythm as ancient as life itself.

It dawned in her mind. His magical prowess is exemplary. His mental strength is unsurpassed. But does the world realize how precious his heart is? I can see its ebb and flow through the swaying flames behind his eyes. The keyholes to his soul. I can no longer deny that I never truly hated him. I can no longer deny that my heart flutters at his presence. I can no longer call my desire to garner his praise, his attention as a school girl's need to excel in the eyes of her teacher.

And her eyes welled up. For his pain, his desolation, his plea, his desperation, and his request to feel like a human again was real. And she could not deny him. she heaved and shuddered. Leaving Ron behind. Leaving innocence behind. It was a hefty task. Leaning forward, resting her head on his chest, her nose had brushed against the sparse hair, mixed with the tang of sweat and musk. She cried in earnest. For him. For her.

Two strong and stable arms came up from behind and engulfed her in a strong embrace. One palm rested on the back of her neck. The other rested over the small of her back. His chin rests over her head. Their touch radiates newer promises. I will hold you just like this for the rest of our lives, I will guard you as I must, I will stand by you through storms and rain, and behind you in your hour of victory…only if you would let me.

Comfort. Was he giving her comfort? Hadn't he been the Prometheus of the Magical world? Tied to the rock of an oath made to a dead woman, was that stale reminder of love in the shape of a scavenger feeding on him, then leaving him to regenerate himself again. Every day he would rise from the dead, and every night his essence would become the Oath's fodder. Yes Prometheus, the supreme trickster, the master craftsman. And this life force, with magic vibrating within its sinews, this sculpture of a survivor was letting her lean on and gather her strength.

Or like the Atlas, who held the magical world on his back, sacrificing his aspirations, his chance to live. And he was soaked in hatred, have undergone torture of mind, body, and soul. Still, he went on and on. Back to gravel at the feet of a monster. Become the toy of utter madness. And still, came back to teach and train students. The dichotomy was not lost to her. She recalled how those long black strands of hair helped him in drawing the curtains over his emotions at times. He was human after all. But not now. Now they were resting on the sides of his bare face. Open and exposed for her eyes to read his story. And help him write a new one. He had handed over that proverbial quill to her.

She cried. For what the world had become. For lives lost…

"And years that we need to live from this point…"

His voice above her head echoed. He had never left her mind. Startled, she looked up. A smile ghosted over his thin lips. He was not a handsome man by general standards. But she reckoned it was his imperfection that made him unique. And here was this man, who had led a hopeless life, was trying to give her hope. This was his strength. This was the newfound energy that he had gathered. And she would not trample over that. She gave him a tentative smile. Tears glistened over her cheek. She decided for the both of them and untangled herself from his embrace.

Hermione took shy steps backward, her eyes never leaving him. Her teeth bit hard on her lips. When the bed touched the back of her knees, she lowered herself on it. Like a willing wife she had stretched a hand up towards Severus Snape. Palm outstretched.

A mute gesture of a warm welcome.

* * *

Seamus had once again led Draco through another deserted corridor and had stopped in front of a similar worn-out door. So, they too were kept inside an interrogation room.

Staring along sideways, Seamus had signaled his companion to wait and had walked up to the adjacent door. Swinging it open, he had simply barked, "Alright fellows, the show's over, you are wanted in the courtroom, the detainees will need to speak to their lawyers, now, move it! Out. The other way, Jones, Yeh, you got it, mate, stop muttering, 'm not the one giving orders, grumbling, are we Spencer, take it up with Minister Kingsley and Head Auror Jordan."

Draco could hear several male voices coming out from the room, but he was slightly curious to find no one had come out into the corridor, he was standing in right now. When the Gryffindor had come back, he had simply chuckled at the expanse of the uncomfortable Slytherin, "Folks are not allowed in this part of the building, they are now loitering on the other side of the room, those can be accessed, the auror's department is just beyond this row of rooms. Come on, let's get on with this, And Malfoy, please don't cringe, I cannot really tackle Daphne…I mean, you will know what I mean, just don't make a face, or laugh, as Dean said, I too can swing several nasty punches."

Seamus had opened the door and had stepped aside, forcing Draco to enter ahead of him. In simple clothes, two young women were sitting on a bench pushed back against a wall. This room too had a table and two chairs. He could guess someone had taken pity and had transformed the other two chairs into that long bench on which Astoria and Daphne sat huddled together. Or rather it was Daphne clinging on to her elder sister, while the other was just patting her back and was humming a tune. She had her head resting against the wall, her eyes were closed.

Malfoy had felt pity, misery, and hopelessness all in one breath. These were people he had grown up with, people he had played with back in the Manor during the long summer breaks, he had enjoyed partying, dancing and sharing his Hogwarts life with. How did it feel to learn that your parents were dead and that you can not even see them off? He could surmise from what Dean had said. Greyback had mauled the parents so horribly, it was better for the girls not to see them like that torn apart. They were better off remembering them as a graceful couple just like they truly were.

Daphne was the first to react. She got up and had run past Draco to hug Seamus. The Irish man had gone red in the face but nevertheless had held on to the weeping girl. He had grimaced, and Draco could see how his own presence was making it no better for Finnigan. "A'right Lil one, see, I kept my promise, nope no one got me, I am fine, enough of that crying, pretty one, why don't we just settle here and let's..hey look up! Who is here now..."?

He had signaled Draco to speak. Uneasy at having to coax someone so familiar acting in such a bizarre manner, Draco had tried his best, "Hey Daph…it me. Drak…" The terrified girl had just borrowed her face further into Finnigan, who was a head taller than her.

"Draco…" Astoria Greengrass had joined her friend in the middle of the room. Turning to the eldest sister, Draco had brought his hand up and the other held it within her soft palms. "Thank you for coming here."

"I…I am sorry for your loss."

"We knew… The aurors had all got us together and had put us in house arrest. We had heard of the Parkinsons. I wonder how Pansy is. Blaise had mentioned she might get a trial. We knew we were the next targets; I had seen Greyback. The way he would throw lewd remarks, the way he would look if Finnigan and Blaise had not come through the tunnels under the mansion he surely would have got us. Blaise, Blaise was fantastic, can you believe it, he fought head-on, had sent some nasty spells at the werewolf…"

"Merlin! I am glad, Blaise remembered those trapdoors, glad we played down there, glad really glad to see both of you."

"Drak why don't we sit back at the bench, don't worry Finnigan is good at taking care of Daph, I have come to trust him. He does make funny faces, but he is a caring man. Daph is still to say a word. They had arranged for mediwitch to check whether she was suffering from some nonverbal spell. She is not. They think she is in shock."

Sitting down on the narrow bench, Draco had watched how Finnigan had by now managed to settle Daph in one of the chairs. The Gryffindor had pushed his chair side by side, in order to allow the girl to lean into his embrace. They make such a cozy picture. If this was sometime back in his school years he would have gagged. But now those house rivalries no longer mattered.

"Strange isn't it, never thought Seamus would be this soft, I mean back then we had hardly considered him…" Astoria's soft voice had flown in from his side.

"No..we had barely taken him into account."

"These days all hauled up behind some door or the other, Daph wrapped around me, I had a lot of time to think. I realized this way it is better. Just see how everyone is reaching out to ensure the safety of the others. No one is a half-blood, pureblood or a muggleborn. You know Seamus is a good man, he had literally barged into Greyback, the moment the werewolf had got a grip on Daph's cloak. She was lucky, he had only got through the fur. Then Blaise had tackled him with a jinx and Seamus had picked her up and had run the whole way just like that. Never or once did he complain. Would we have done the same Draco? If the tables were turned? I don't think so…how narrow-minded were we, how disillusioned were our parents…not only our families are dead or killed or waiting for trial, but our beliefs are also challenged by someone like Greyback."

"Stori…I have gone through' the process'."

"I could guess, or else they won't have allowed you in here. Who is your match?"

Blushing for the first time that day, he had mumbled, "Ginny Weasley."

"Oh thank Merlin! Someone is finally living his daydreams!"

"What? Draco had spattered so badly, that even Seamus had looked up and had stared at him curiously.

"Nothing, Finnigan." Turning to her friend, Astoria had chuckled, "Oh, please I knew you fancied her, your own Weaslette, just like Blaise had his eyes glued to Lavender Brown…"

"What! You knew! About Blaise as well!"

"Just because I don't gossip like Pansy, doesn't mean I shut my eyes off as well…so tell me, did you show her the ring, that little red snake of yours?"

"You know about that ring too?"

'Duffer! Dunderhead! I have seen you holding it up to your eyes, watching at it intently, when you would stay back in the common room, after the boys had retired, just to ensure each one of the girls had come back and were unharmed."

"How could you guess I…"

"You always fancied our trinkets, I have seen you drawing designs in your notes, it wasn't tough to sum it all up."

"Stori, Kingsley will allow me to establish my own business, he would naturally be supervising things, but it gives me some…"

"Freedom, you don't have to do what your bastard of a father would have wanted you to…. what are you calling it…?"

"Red."

Smirking at him, Astoria had winked, "How predictable!" pausing a bit she had pried on, "You know who we are matched with don't you?"

"Yes."

"Who is going to be my match?"

"George Weasley"

Malfoy didn't have the courage to look at her, so he had kept his eyes lowered, staring intently at his boots.

"The surviving twin…is he here as well?"

Finally gathering up his dwindling courage Malfoy had shifted himself so that he could face his friend. Taking her hand in between his palms, he had given it a reassuring squeeze, "Yes, Stori, you got to listen to me carefully. George is a good man deep down. I know coming from me, this sounds absolutely trash, me praising a Weasley, I get it, but, as you said a while ago, we are no longer in school, this is the real world, where a hideous beast in luring around to kill us and ruin everything we hold dear to ourselves. George is still grieving at the loss of his family, more so at the loss of his twin and now his sister, who will no longer be staying with him. "

"Stori, we would need him back in action, he has got a brilliant mind…"

"You might have fooled a lot of those Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuff, but Draco, you were never such a smooth talker to fool me, I can understand what you are asking from me. Nurse the Weasley's heart back in one piece, be a faithful wife, do your duty, bear his children and help your man in his endeavors. I remember my mother's words. We are trained just like that from Childhood. If they want you to have my answer, though I am not sure how that is important. As far as this new law goes, we cannot resist it, reject it or defy it. I don't expect anything from George Weasley. I truly don't. Draco, I do want to know what will happen to Daphne, I am the only one she has…"

"She was matched with Seamus Finnigan."

"You gotta be joking! How? I am… is that why…is it true then magical affinity matters…"

"I really don't know much, but don't you think it is a relief, looking at the way Finnigan has managed to actually be a nanny to Daph…I dare say those are perfect for each other."

"Draco, I just wanted to say, I never really considered you as a suitor, even if our parents were pushing both of us together. I am sorry."

"Stori, I am glad you think in the same way."

Shaking himself off the morbid feelings, he had said a little louder, "Guess it is time for Dean to come and collect us, he might ask you to talk to George alone, I don't really know, but don't let the redhead muck this up."

"I won't, Draco, make sure to treat Ginerva well, open up to her, you carry a lot in your mind. Share it out. I know you; I mean it is easy to guess the house might be on fire a million times, but when Weaslette realizes true affection, I have seen her fight for it tooth and nail."

"Strange phrase' tooth and nail', where did you pick that up from?"

Seamus had chuckled from the other side of the room, "Blame me, Malfoy seems like I still have more ways to influence people."

Before either of the Slytherins could reply, the door had swung open, and Dean had walked in, with George Weasley in tow.

* * *

For the sake of my story, I have made Astoria Greengrass the eldest of the Greengrass siblings.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

I made Astoria Greengrass the elder sister and Daphne Greengrass the younger one, for the sake of this series. They will stick to their individual characteristics otherwise.

* * *

Chapter 9

George had walked in, but he really couldn't manage to say much about the Seamus was holding Daphne close in his arms. Perhaps it was the other way around. He was more drawn to the way Astoria had been standing beside Draco. They did look perfect together. He had tried to look everywhere but she did have a way to capture his attention without even saying a word.

Dean had mentioned how Greyback had fatally wounded the Greengrass parents, though that was not news to any of the Order members. But him getting matched with Astoria Greengrass was a miracle. He was sure she would have been happy to marry any of the pureblood rich bachelors. Not him, a blood traitor. Even in those shabby robes, she looked like an angel. For the first time, George had felt inadequate in front of her. How could one shine from within? He marveled at the way she had held herself up. Trying to be strong, just like he was trying to be strong. She was fighting with the world to keep her sister safe. He was doing the same, to ensure his sister's safety. Were they any different?

She had walked a step closer. He had then noticed that they were alone in that room. Lowering his head, he had swallowed a bit, ashamed and self-conscious. Why did he have to drink so much last night? The Pepper up Potion that Ginny had forced down his throat in the morning might have helped him feel a little better. He had also gulped down some sober up potion, just in case. He wished badly; he could have dressed a bit better. What would his mother think? He had chuckled despite himself George, I taught you better, when you go out, you got to dress well, not like this… hair standing out, tie horridly knotted, robes draped clumsily. She would…Mum has gone, so has dad, so has Percy...Ron…now Ginny too…He had shaken his head a bit to free his mind of the sinking feeling that had been there like an iron ball chained to his heart.

Standing straighter, He had managed to smile. Extending his hand, he had managed to call for a truce. "Hi, I am George Weasley." When Astoria had simply stared back at him, he had clumsily brought back his hand, confused. Wiping his sweaty hands on his wrinkled trousers, he had decided to bow, as they do before a dance, or should I just take her hand and plant a kiss on it…

To say George Weasley was just amusing was the understatement of the millennium. He along with his twin, was the reason behind the Slytherins, slightly tolerating the Gryffindors. Their pranks were innovative and surprising. They could have been passed away as the life of the castle. They all had to be extra cautious around those two.

Even without an ear he had a handsome face, sturdy, rough, boyish when he would smile, he should smile often, did he knew his eyes would shine with mirth each time he would manage to smile, Astoria had tried hard to remember all those several occasions when she had seen the twins laughing in the corridors, or flying on their brooms during a quidditch match. She was also trying not to smile. Here was a veteran prankster, failing to introduce himself to his intended wife. How fitting, to defeat your to be husband even without uttering a word…When he had honestly bowed low, she had giggled and then had burst out laughing.

When he had gaped at her like a fish, she had rocked on her heels and had held on her aching sides, he was funny, truly, genuinely a very animated man.

A shy smile had made its way up to his lips, he was surely blushing, beetroot red perhaps. He had tried to hold on to that dwindling composure, what would those waiting outside think of them? Hell, this was a serious matter! So, he had simply shoved his hands inside his pockets, and had spoken aloud airily to get the still giggling woman's attention, "Madam, find yourself lucky enough to have fun at his highness, George Weasley's expense." He did not know what came to his mind, just to add a flirting effect, he had winked at her.

That wink had done its magic, trying hard to get a grip on her still bubbling mirth, Astoria had simply added mimicking his airiness, "Sir find yourself lucky enough to have fun at her highness, Astoria Greengrass's expense." She had to bite on her lips to stop another wave of uncontrolled laughter. But George had barked out, laughing like a small boy.

Trying to get his mind off this silly exchange, George had simply nodded in defeat, "I will try to…"

But Astoria had beat him to it again, "I will try as well…"

"I would like to add…see Seamus is good, I am sure he would do his best to keep your sister safe…I mean if you would like to meet her…that can be arranged…"

"I can't thank you enough for that. It was thoughtful of you."

He had walked up to the door, placing his hand over the doorknob, he had turned to her and had given her a small smile, "Up! for a wager, I bet Ginny would drown Draco, or you know mime him badly…"

Astoria had walked up beside him...standing on her toes, she had whispered right over his lips, "I bet Draco will not mind, He is already head over heels about her." The moment she had stepped closer to him, he had fought hard not to do something stupid, he was already having a hard time breathing. He had felt her brush her soft porcelain hands over his ruddy ones, curl her fingers around to twist the knob. She had winked at him, then, holding her head high, she had stepped out in the corridor.

* * *

When the group had made their way into the courtroom, things had immediately started off as if nothing had been interrupted by Ginny Weasley's dramatic outburst. Draco had noticed Seamus donning his no-nonsense look escorting Astoria and Daphne away where several Aurors were standing in guard. The plump woman had grinned at the two of them, "Mr. Draco Malfoy, Miss Ginevra Weasley, how glad we are to know that you have finally worked out this slight misunderstanding. Please step up to the podium so that the remaining papers work could be finished off".

They were not allowed to wait for George and Astoria to get sorted out. They were escorted into the adjoined room, where all other couples had been disappearing after being matched by the "process". On his way to this secluded room, Dean had brushed past him, muttering, "Neville got Pansy, she is safe."

Immediately after the ceremony, the newly married couple were informed that due to security measures, the Gringotts bank had complied with the Ministry's request. They would be carrying out the valuation of joint assets at the Malfoy Manor Ground. A team of sturdy Aurors had escorted them out of the Ministry in on time. Right before apparating, Draco had grabbed hold of Ginny's hand and had pulled her into his arms. He had kissed her at the brief ceremony. He had felt the soft tunic, had seen the hint of her feminine grace. He had already started through dirty looks at all other men stealing a look of the beautiful wife. As for now, he had wished to find another reason to simply hold her.

Ginny was glad to find Lee Jordan, a former Gryffindor, among the several unknown faces. Jordan had taken it as his responsibility to see that Malfoy was truly being honest with his promises. He had whispered into Ginny's ears, "Hey Gin, don't worry, I will check out this new place that the ferret is bragging about, one dark stuff, and I will see to it that you get out of this marriage as fast as you can fly. Cheer up now!"

Once they had made it through the grounds, instead of going inside the house, he had led the others to a grove behind the huge mansion. Through an enchanted gate they had found themselves in a garden of exotic flowers and plants. There was also a pond secluded among tall palm trees. Very soon they had left all of this behind and they had started climbing up. The trees had started thinning out. In front of them lay an open expanse with a small mound ahead. The area was dotted with gravestones, and Ginny had felt an eerie displeasure crawl up her skin. Above the hill, they could see a small portico. As they had approached it, they had found Kingsley along with a few other members of the ministry waiting for them. Along with them, they had got two bodies, one belonged to Narcissa Malfoy and the other to Lucius Malfoy.

Draco had not uttered a single word throughout the short procedure of their burial. Neither had he urged anyone to raise their wands to honour the dead. He had only asked Ginny to conjure a wreath. Just one wreath. If he had his wand, he won't have asked her to help.

The girl was still smarting over her misfortune marriage to the sworn enemy. She had transfigured a twig into a wreath of thorns and had shoved it in his hand. He had stared at her. Insulted and hurt, he had just squinted his eyes at her but had shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He had walked up to his mother's new grave and had stood still, staring at the tombstone. He wanted it to simply read "Mother". He wanted the world to remember her just like that.

Ginny had expected him to place the wreath at Lucius's grave. She couldn't help but feel guilty. Molly Weasley did not teach her children to insult others and sully the dead. Feeling ill at ease, she had walked up to Draco, and had placed her hand on his shoulders. "Wait", looking at the wreath she had murmured, "give that back," doubtful of her true intentions, he had still passed the thing back to its creator.

A flick of her wand that slowly turned the horrific wreath, into a beautiful halo of Narcissa flowers braided together. She had handed it back to him, offering him a grimace of an apology of sorts. His eyes had shone in gratitude, and he had offered her a quick nod. Turning back, he had delicately placed it on his mother's grave. Ginny had heard him mumble, "Goodbye Mother, you will be mourned."

Turning towards Kingsley he had extended his hand. The older man had handed over his wand. Ginny had watched the subtle display of joy, similar to the ones long lost friends would reserve for each other to pass on her new husband's otherwise emotionless face. He had held the wand up and had aimed it at his Father's grave. Fury had coursed through his body, magic had shot up to his wand arm, coiling through his wand, it had shot out squarely against the newly made grave. Just like her, most of the other wizards and witches had stepped back.

The fire had rose high, its flames licking the wooden portico. The others in fear had rushed out of it but Malfoy heir had stood his ground. When a few Aurors had raised their wands to decapitate the mourning man, Kingsley had raised his arm to stop them. "He had personally requested me to allow him to do that. Lucius was a dark wizard, and Draco is just making sure, he can never rise again from the dead." Narcissa Malfoy's grave had remained untouched.

Satisfied at his handy work, Draco had come back to Kingsley and had handed back his wand, "You can go ahead and put as many restrictions on it, I don't mind, but you know what I would use it for, so just…"

"Mr. Malfoy, I have seen for myself, what you are capable of, I assure you, in the long run, the wizarding community will surely benefit from your newest endeavor. Although I would like to keep a close eye on your activities, just too…"

"I won't complain, watch over me…or whatever, I assure you, you won't hear of me, unnecessarily."

The legal aids of the Malfoy trust had walked up to the young heir. Handing over a bunch of parchments with a big glistening seal with the Malfoy crest stamp on it., they had walked back. Draco had handed it over to the Minister's waiting hands. "Those are the papers of the house and the many businesses of my parents and grandparents. If we have settled everything here, I wish to leave for the Red Villa, at Withmorshire." A Ministry official along with a Gringotts representative had handed out legal documents to the owner of the Malfoy properties. He had simply placed his seal over them and had passed them to his associates.

Fixing an advanced tracing spell on his wand, the Minister had handed it back to its owner, "Very well, we need to side along, Mr. Jordan, has requested to be present on behalf of Mr. George Weasley, Is that fine with you Malfoy?"

Malfoy had looked at Ginny and then had turned to the Minister, "I am okay with Jordan coming with us."

The four of them had left the other Aurors and ministry officials at the Manor and had walked back to the Apparition point near the peripheral wards of the Manor. Once again, without even asking for her permission, he had grabbed her hand. Jordan had walked to the other side and had placed his arm around Ginny protectively. The Minister had held on to Draco's shoulder, and in a blink, the four had apparated away.

* * *

They had appeared inside an apple orchard. Draco had led them through the small pathway among the dense cluster of trees. After about a quarter of an hour's walk, they had arrived at a backyard. Ahead of them, stood the Red Villa. It was a medieval-looking house, ancient, but still vibrant, the setting sun of the day, made the red bricks shine brighter.

Draco had spoken softly, "This is the Red Villa. No, I don't really need a mansion, a manor or a castle, I am content enough with what muggles call as "duplex" to start a life, to have a family," he had turned to face Ginny when he had uttered the last bit, and Jordan could not help but be shocked how genuinely affectionate the Malfoy heir looked at the moment.

There were more surprises in store for them. Draco had only one house-elf, Dorsie, and he had made a deal with the mousy elf, he would share the household chores. When the Minister had arched his brow at that, the man had simply supplied, "I liked doing things on my own, it felt liberating." Cross questioning the elf had been hilarious, who had gone on and on about how hard it was to watch Master Draco, wash dishes, sometimes like a Muggle, or change sheets, or light a fire like muggles with matchsticks!

While Kingsley and Draco had disappeared into his workshop, Jordan and Ginny, led by a much excited Dorsie, had taken the house tour. The living room, the study with a library, the kitchen, the dining area and a spare guest room was on the ground floor. There was a basement and a cellar. In the basement, Draco had his workshop set up and a small potion lab was built in as well. The cellar had a good stock of vintage wine, which Dorsie was too benevolent to supply.

The stairs had taken them up to the second level. Here they had walked into an open space, a lounging area of sorts, with bookshelves around. And an elegant fireplace in the center of it. The mantle, if one could call the stand built around the circular fireplace, had an ancient watch and a twirling dragon studded with gemstones and diamonds. Dorsie had seen how the New Mistress and her friend had been staring at the mantlepiece." Master had made it before the Dark Lord had punished him with that horrible mark."

There was a huge bay window overlooking the open space at one side, which Dorsie had mentioned extending to a hanging balcony, where Draco would often sit and watch the sunset.

Jordan had good-naturedly mumbled, "Quite Idyllic".

Ginny had stubbornly avoided the master bedroom, instead, she had taken a quick peep into the other rooms. There were three more bedrooms, spacious and well decorated. And a study, which was locked from inside. Jordan had grown suspicious but Dorsie had added, "That's the studio, for painting, has been since Mistress Doreen, now the Master uses it."

"Draco Malfoy paints…"

Dorsie had nudged them to take the winding stairs once again. And this time they had come along and stood inside an open rooftop ballroom, with a grand piano at one end. the area did not have a wall, instead, it had windows, and a glass doom.

Despite herself, Ginny had whispered, "Wow!"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.  
My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Severus had watched Hermione sleep, in rapt wonder. A wave of his hand had added some more logs to the dying fire. She had unconsciously inched closer to his side. He never thought he would get to tire her. He had started feeling a couple of strands of her bushy hair, rolling them in between his index finger and thumb. She had her face turned sideways. The fire lit up her pale face. He had seen her blush in anger, blush in embarrassment through all those years, she had been his student. But tonight, he had made her blush at his expense. Not through rebuke or mockery, but through pure adoration and unhindered worship.

He never had the chance or the opportunity to show someone how, even, he could love and adore. Like a petal, he had held her. As a knight he had guarded her, and guided her through every flight they took tonight as their joined bodies, rolled over the waves of pleasure and pain with the doldrum winds ringing through their veins. The magic sealing their magical bond, holding on to trances of sanity. She smelled of vanilla and cocoa butter. He thought he had started liking the taste of it. There was light dust of freckles around her nose. Her eyelids were innocently fluttering. And her breath had been disturbing the trail of spurting hair on his chest. He had tried to, for the first time, to make love to a woman. Not a hasty act to quench those needs. No, she was not just a woman. She was his wife. She was the person he would be tied to. After living a lonesome life this was truly an intrusion into his privacy. And an intrusion he would like to test.

He recalled how she had reacted to his advances. Could it be called taming a cornered beast? He had seen her ferocity. When he had tentatively touched her ankle, he had trailed up his fingers leaving goosebumps over her leg, drawing soothing circles over her kneecap. He had skipped the journey up…for the time being. Instead, he had taken her small hands into his calloused, cut and roughened palm. Holding her gaze, he had lowered his lips on her knuckles. And he had lost himself then and there. He had failed to stop his lips gracing each of those diminutive hills with soft kisses. And on the 8th knuckle, he had nipped, the tiniest bite. Just to get a reaction out of her. Her eyes had flared up, and she had rubbed her thighs together. And to stop his progression she had gripped upon his hands with all her might.

Severus thought she was hovering over the cusp of uncertainty. If he had been questioning their stand in all this farce, she had shown him a path they could walk on together. And now it was his turn to help her take the first step. He had pulled at her hands with such force, that they had fallen backward together. Skin to skin, heart over the heart. And he had held her in his arms. His nose had brushed against her ear shell. His lips had pecked at the soft skin. Nestled in between her warm and soft legs, he had stirred to life. Once he had her over him, he had to let go of her hands. In reflex, she must have circled them around his back. In fear and anticipation, ten nails were digging into his scarred back. He had a tempting desire to spell a mirror and watch those tiny new scars. It was her first show of claiming him as hers, something he would want to commit to memory.

For a couple of moments, she had sat still on his lap. Testing waters perhaps! That thought had made him chuckle. And as if to throw him a counter challenge, she had pressed herself firmly above him and had begun the primal foreplay. The subtle dance called grinding. He had to hold her still. Gripping her waist in an iron hold, he had bitten on her neck, sucking the gradually forming red patch, smoothing away the display of his ferocity.

Now, she was covered with many such displays of his wild love. First, he had felt a subtle shift in the way she had started gasping. Then she had mumbled indistinct words. But being a man who had bedded with nightmares for two decades of his miserable life, Severus Snape knew how nightmares jolted the victim from peaceful sleep to petrified wakefulness. He never knew how to hug, just to assure the person across. Lily had done them so often, so naturally, that in those innocent years before Hogwarts, he envied her readiness at giving comfort. She had started shaking her head, and he knew he had to take the rein up once again.

He had tried something, he always thought would work for him. Trailing his fingers over her spine, he had first counted them. She was too thin, too pale and too uncared for. And now, she was his responsibility. He would chalk out a plan, first thing in the morning. Yes, that would call for potions, supplements and five balanced meals. Her knee shook, and he had felt himself stir again. He had opted for pressing his palm flat on her back and drawing lazy circles over the expanse of her soft skin. She was whimpering now. And all he could think of was planting assuring kisses on her head. In his blissfully husky voice, he had whispered in the quiet air of the bedroom. The very air that now smelled of musk, arousal, and sweat. "You are safe…I got you…L…" He dared not to utter the last three letters. They had many hurdles to cross over. Right now, they were just trying to understand the dynamics of husband and wife. Would she ever think of him as a friend? No, he wouldn't stretch luck, to be her lover. And he had felt his anger boil up at that. He was a possessive man. And if it was his wife's love, he would very much prefer he had her entire attention till the last day of his life. He wanted to live now. For her. She had slowly started becoming his little paradise. And also for all the new relations, he had formed in the past few days.

Smiling at his capacity to start wishing once again, Severus had leaned down again and had nearly planted a chaste kiss over her scrunched-up brow…

"Ron…no…. Ron…don't leave me…do not... please come back…"

His lips were a hair away from her head, his hands on her back had stilled. Was he truly doomed, never to be loved by a soul? He had tried not to squeeze her too tight, throw her away from him, and shake her awake. Was it going to be like this, live with a woman, who will love a dead man? Had he not done that for all these years. Fate was a trickster.

The moment he had felt her stir, felt her whimpering grow by the passing seconds, and was certain she would wake up with a scream at the loss of her lover, he had closed his eyes and had pretended to sleep.

* * *

Hermione felt like she was drifting through the mist of time. A steady rhythm humming below her. Warmth and peace radiating from below into her tired bones. Ron. A moment he was holding her hand, then they were running together across the ocean shore of the Shell Cottage. Ron, giving her a bunch of wildflowers. And the next one was Ron, sneaking into her bed at the Burrows. He loved her through his sloppy kisses, holding her face in his sweaty palms. But all she could think of was his shining honeydew eyes. His eyes would say it out loud. He was truly deeply in love with this bookworm. And he would love her…She had brought her hands up to hold his head to reciprocate his ardor kisses. But then, his face had started melting. Like ice, like a figurine burning from inside… His eyes had grown wild in terror, his mouth had grown wide and deafening her senses, his scream of agony had echoed through her body…and slowly he had started vanishing in thin air, like smoke losing its identity.

"Ron…no…. Ron…don't leave me…don't please come back…" She had cried out to the dissipating figure of her lover.

The very next moment, she had felt herself half tangled over a sleeping Severus Snape. Her husband. No, this is a bad dream, a joke of the universe. She had all but pushed herself away from the prone man. Disgusted and ashamed of herself. How could she forget, how could she allow herself to give away what she had been saving for Ron?

Clapping her hand over her mouth, she had tried hard to keep her screams bottled up. Managing to untangle the twisted sheets away from her body, she had hastily grabbed at her tunic, still lying at the foot of the bed, and had dashed into the adjoining bathroom. Closing the door shut, she had rested her forehead on the cold wood. Her head was reeling, her breath labored. Her senses had been tossed into a hurricane. Staggering into the shower, she had realized the first time. The showerhead, registered movement, and water, lukewarm would pour in a steady drizzle, at the presence of a human occupant.

She wanted that water to grow hot, melt her sweaty skin, burn it actually. There were many creatures that could shred their skin. If she could somehow do that…? Her skin, its ghosting hair, its mosaic patterns, its softness, its brushes, its smell and everything that she secretly thought would excite Ron- she would give him all that. But instead, she had given those little beautiful everyday things to a dour man. Her husband, who until last year was her teacher. A person she actually never loved.

But then, all these that transpired some time ago? Those wisps of emotions, his insecurities, his baffling discoveries of how he could make her respond to his touch, to his lips, to his hovering breath, to his thrust, to his vibrating rhythm, to his call, to his whispers of love and adoration. SO many times, was she close to peppering him with kisses, just like he had showered nipping bites, leaving his signature on her blushing skin. There were times when she thought he was riding into the heart of a raging battle, and then he was simply, staying afloat on the surface of a quiet lonely pond in the heart of a dark forest.

Hermione was an avid reader but never had she come across a character who could draw enigma with poignant words. This man, on the other side of that closed bathroom door, had drawn motifs, and patterns of love and affection on her. Like a painter's brush strokes busy adding color to those fluffy clouds witnessing the setting of the Sun over the distant Horizon. Through varied pressure of his fingers, he had told her again and again, she was meant to be alive. She was powerful beyond her imagination. And that he would love her, cherish her, hold her, battle her fears and hide her tears from the brutal world.

Sev…NOT She belongs to RON BILIUS WEASLEY! She had started scratching her skin raw. There were glaring red nail marks on her arms, legs, and slowing they had started extending to other parts of her body. She had to remove these sullied layers of skins, get rid of it, it had become toxic. She dared not to close her eyes, the sprays of her troubled them, but she preferred to punish them. They were supposed to look for Ron and not decide to fall…!

"NO!" the single word rolled about the small confined space, vibrating rejection echoing over the walls, piercing through millions of droplets of water, mingling with the wasted stream and found its way down the cornered drain. Why was she so confused? How she could stop thinking about Ron, had she not promised herself, that Ron would be the one to reside in her heart. Had she not taken inspiration from the man she had just slept with.

The man? YES! That MAN! He had loved Lily Potter, and now he had made love to her. How on earth had he managed to? But then…Running her frustrated hands through her heavily wet chestnut hair, she had tugged at them, gulping another scream. And his actions were genuine. He had kept his mind open to her. She had seen his thoughts getting reflected in her head. His uncertainties, his torn emotions at being not good enough for companionship. And he had also doubted himself if he would ever be a father caring and loving unlike his own? Father! Like she was truly going to be pregnant, as if she would assist in the growth of a child, like, it was actually happening? Was she insane, when had she gone so beguiling?

She had slapped at the jade black walls. Angry slaps that strung her palms. She was Ron's. If she was to lose it, her well-kept virginity, it was Ron's to have. Ron Ron Ron…. she couldn't allow herself to be someone else's, this was a crime! And she was going to punish herself, yes, she will have to join Ron. Dripping wet, she had jumped out of the shower and had grabbed the tunic. She had held on to the washbasin, and her eyes had caught those visible love bites. Marking her his. Why did he need to be so passionate about everything? As if she was a musical instrument and he had transformed himself into a maestro. His fingers had strum at her strings, blown out her shyness, paced her heartbeat to dance at the beat of erotic music. And he was uncertain? No, No, what magic is this, that is drawing her to him. She was Ron's. This is a crime; she had bellowed angrily and had flung the bathroom door open.

The sudden bung had made him jump off the bed. Still, in utter shock and disbelief, she had looked back at him, her arms stretched out beside her petite body, holding onto the door frame for support. But her stupor had lasted for a second or two. Screaming her lungs out, a resounding "NO!" she had turned. Her wet hair had turned into several knives slicing through the warm bedroom air.

Throwing the adjacent bedroom door open, she had broken into a desperate run. Unmindful of where she is heading to, she had kept chanting "Ron, Ron, Ron" her sobbing voice was ringing loud in the empty castle. In no time, she was climbing stairs. Up and up. She had kept going. Open sky. At last. her legs had started throbbing in pain. But it will soon be over, she will be with Ron, all she needs to do is just take that leap of faith. For love, For Ron. She had continued to trudge on towards this edge of the flat platform of the Astronomy Tower.

She had nearly taken the final leap…when two hands had shot out and had grabbed her waist and had hurled her backward. They had fallen like a heap of flesh and bones. She had been shrieking like a banshee, kicking and scratching those bony arms pinning her down to life, when flying off to death was so euphoric.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Neville had just cleaned the dishes and cleared the kitchen when the fireplace had chimed. He had turned to the closed bedroom door and had sent both a silencing spell and a locking spell for extra security. He had flicked his wand at the fireplace, and soon the flames had turned green to reveal the face of Blaise Zabini.

"Neville."

"Blaise. Do step in."

It was surprising how the two had come to talk on a first-name basis. Perhaps the subtle change in their nonexisting relation had begun the moment Blaise had decided to finally pick a side, had stepped out of the forbidden forest. He had then secretly started following the returning students of Hogwarts, through the underground tunnels. The very ones returning with food and supplies from the Hogsmeade Inn. It was in dark dismal leaking passages he had had his brush with death. Greyback had been making his way back and Blaise had just happened to be in his way. The angry werewolf must have had his mind somewhere else, or maybe he thought Blaise to be too close to the all-powerful Malfoy family. The brute had just flung the student across the passageway and had got out of the tunnel.

By the time, he had been discovered by the party led by Seamus Finnigan who had heard the later scream, the werewolf had disapparated from the grounds. He was brought back into the Room of Requirement, where Neville had healed his wounds. Throughout the Hogwarts years, neither of them had paid much heed to the other, other than laughing at each other's expense. But that act of compassion shown by Longbottom had made Blaise a loyal compatriot of Dumbledore's Army.

After sitting on one of four chairs around the diner table, Blaise had truly looked at Neville. " I am sorry to have interrupted you."

Chuckling humorlessly, "So you have heard."

"How is she?"

"Hysteric, confused, struggling, underweight."

"I did get a chance to speak to Snape."

"I saw him, I hope Hermione will be safe."

"Believe me, Longbottom, no one messes with Severus Snape, unless they have a death wish."

When the latter had offered him a glass of Firewhiskey, the former Slytherin had truly been grateful. Sipping into his drink, he had stared intently into the burning fire. Neville had patiently waited for the other to complete rearranging his thoughts.

"I could manage a couple of minutes of uninterrupted meeting with the Headmaster. He was held in the same holding house where earlier Draco had been shoved into. With Harry potter disappearing, Snape had also gone underground. But you knew that… Since Hogwarts still recognized him as its headmaster, the castle had allowed him to access his personal chambers and through them he had succeeded in entering the secret lab that he himself had managed to build up during the last few weeks before the battle. All this while, the potion master had been hiding there, testing your potions on one of the captured werewolves, from the Parkinson attack."

Neville had sat up straight, his eyes glistening with expectations. "And, what did he find?"

"Though the werewolf had died, the test had borne satisfactory results. He is still to decide on the manner the potion will need to be administered…The only drawback happened to be if he had applied the thick bubbly crème over one inflicted part of the skin, the other scars would aggravate. And this had led to a small accident. The unbearable pain had made the wolf and nearly attack the potion master. He had lunged for the potion still brewing in the corner intending to destroy it. But perhaps he had miscalculated his moments and had bumped at the edge of the table, making the cauldron filled potion fly in the air, and finally covering it through and through. Since the crème was still hot and the wolf was far too close to dying, it had expired due to the burns."

"I see…"

"Thus, Snape is apprehensive of how you are going to achieve the unachievable."

Neville had tipped his drink, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he had proposed, "I have come up with a suggestion. Based on what you just said, we can safely say, the crème should be applied all at once, over the entire surface of the person scarred or bitten by the werewolf. And the most possible way to do it will be to spray the lotion on the person, or dipping him or her in it. Since tomorrow night would be full Moon, both Pansy and Lavender would need to undergo the trial procedure as early as possible. This was just one step towards healing them of the lycanthropy tendencies."

Blaise had pointed out, "I marvel at your Gryffindor sense of optimism, but tell me how are you going to achieve it?"

Neville had smirked and had said, "Soap cake, or gel. It can mimic the same crème consistency. And soap lather has the capacity to reach anywhere and everywhere." Getting up from his chair, he had brought out a case from the nearby cupboard. Inside The glass box, Blaise could see round cakes shining like a full moon."

"Umm, are you suggesting bubble bath, this sounds ridiculous…though, this can work if you can keep the consistency of the crème absolute."

"You can have my guarantee on it…"

Shrugging his shoulders, after snapping the box shut, Neville had tipped his fingers on it lost in thought.

After a length of time, he had added, "If nothing else, it will fail and will not harm Pansy with side effects. "

"And you know this how?"

"I might have switched professor Lupin's toiletries at Grimmauld Place one day, and even Bill Weasley had been heard question his wife, why did his soap smelt like a bunch of Pansies."

Blaise had laughed out loud. To think the stammering boy could be up to such mischief!

"And? What was the outcome?"

"Professor Lupin and Bill both looked less grumpy and merrier, though I was not around them when the Full Moon night approached."

"We will still have to brace ourselves."

"Yes."

Blaise had then done something quite unexpected from him. He had caught hold of Neville's hand and had shaken it a couple of times, "Thanks Neville for taking such drastic steps. Thank you for doing this for Lavender. We know Lavender will not heal but, maybe if the potion works on reducing the scars over Pansy, it might take away the ghastliness from those inflicted upon Lavender."

Neville had insisted, "Blaise would you stay back?"

Blaise had mentioned, "I am to wed Lavender at dawn, I think I can manage some hours. Won't you have to complete your binding ceremony?"

"I need to, I am planning to kill two birds with one stone, I mean to carry on the experiment and also seal the bond with Pansy all at once. Umm, I would like to ask a favor from you?"

"Mate, I am not going to warm up things for you, if that is what you are asking?" pointing at the bedroom door, the Italian had smirked, "In there you got to be the king of the jungle, no second helping, I don't partake in second hands."

Slapping his head, Neville had closed his eyes tight and had opened them to plead genuinely, "Urgh! All I am saying will you have a talk with her, just to convince her that I mean no harm to her?"

Blaise had stared at him. and he had understood that the Slytherin was trying to read his true intentions.

Neville had shrugged and mused aloud, "I know people find it very strange with the way I am behaving presently. But the one thing I have come to understand is that someone has to keep the show running. I have seen how Harry had been working to bring down Voldemort. But the present scenario is not asking for Harry to sacrifice himself. I think this whole thing is his destiny, for I too am the boy who is born at the end of July. And if I could be instrumental in saving people, then there is nothing like that."

Blaise had tried to understand this new side of Neville. He too had made the mistake of asking him, "Are you doing it for fame? Well let me remind you, you have killed a vicious snake"

Neville had gagged at first and then had laughed.

"Snake slayer, there is a funny ring to that. No Zabini, I am doing all this for my family, pointing at the bedroom door. I am doing it for my late gran, for my mum and dad, though they are still to recognize me. Bellatrix has taken away everything from me, this battle has taken away almost everything from Pansy. I will at least make sure, someday she grabs on to the choice to living life once again, free from blood prejudices and the constraints of this magical world."

Blaise still pokes fun at him, "Are Gryffindors always this sentimental?"

"I am not Ron, try a different tactic on some other day, Zabini, if me being sentimental has just saved your friends life, and in turn will perhaps save the very woman you have come to love so fiercely, will you still continue to poke fun at me."

Zabini had sighed, and had nodded, "You are a new game, Longbottom."

"This is a new world, Zabini, we must change accordingly."

* * *

The moment he had felt her stir, felt her whimpering grow by the passing seconds, and was certain she would wake up with a scream at the loss of her lover, he had closed his eyes and had pretended to sleep.

Severus had tried to build up stronger mental shields. But this bond that he now shared with his new wife resisted his efforts. In a haze of dense clouds, the very ones he enjoyed escaping into, on his broom, while he was still a new Potion Master at Hogwarts; he saw them run across an empty beach, he saw him giving her some flowers…The rest, he had seen them too. Those moments right before she woke up and pushed at his prone body.

He had felt her hastily retreat, had felt the bed creak, and the weight above it shift away to the edges. And all the while he had felt those three letters crush him. They weighed him down in the depths of the Lake, and all the while the surface of the water was never too far above. He could see the sun glazing the surface of the rippling water, struggling for breath, struggling to reach above, while the weight of the word "Ron" kept pulling him down, even the mere-folks were watching him drown from afar.

He had seen her enter the bathroom in a hurry. She had managed to drape the tunic around her to hide her modesty, but he had seen the evidence of his wild lovemaking, growing in prominence over her thin shoulders. Soft as a feather, meows like a kitten, growls like a lioness, preys on his self-control… like an illusive pantheress. A true Gryffindor. His wife. The woman, he had exhausted and had in turn allowed himself to get tired under her fierce and subtle ministrations. He had felt the bristle of magic, the sealing of the bond when he could no longer delay his unbecoming at her sudden outburst of ecstatic orgasm. She had rocked his world, body, mind and soul.

He had heard the sound of the shower and had to stop his mind from imagining how the water droplets might enjoy rolling over her body. He envied each one of them. Each one of those tiny drops was daring to touch HIS wife. He was a spy for most of his life. And over the time his senses had gone sharper. The mumbling in between the sound of the shower, fragments of her inner monologue echoed in his aggrieved mind. Severus heard her cry through the door. Her screams had left him shattered.

Hermione was too young. And she had loved Ron Weasley fiercely. Severus Snape could not bring himself to feeling jealous. No, even he had loved Lily Evans too much, that even her death could not make him walk away and look ahead. But Time was a healer, they said. And he was just the fourth hand, of a broken clock. The other three hands of the hour, minutes and seconds had kept time like eternal soldiers, but he had simply stood still from the moment he had hugged his unrequited love's dead body.

He had sold his body to the two sides of this war that took every ounce of his energy, his mind, and his capabilities and had feasted on them like scavengers. He was barely living until Hermione Granger had taken his proffered hand and had decided to accept the proposal of walking by his side for the rest of their lives. And he had dared to look past his personal Hell, hoping this new lease of life would give him peace.

She too is healing, hurt and war-worn, Severus. How was he going to argue with his inner monologue? Well, he had seen how close those three Gryffindors were. So many died, so many couldn't continue. And that second wave of new attacks led by Fenrir Greyback. Snape had suspicions, but with the war growing so close, with his role as a puppet Headmaster, there was little he could do.

These days they were saying, Greyback was trying to become the next Dark Lord. Yes, there were attacks and people were getting abducted from their homes at the dead of the night. The most common argument was that the werewolf was plotting to take advantage of the present state of the dwindling wizarding world and establish werewolf supremacy at its helm. And in that calculated raid at one of his lairs, Snape had seen the werewolf's atrocities. Even from something so heart-wrenching and gruesome, something innocent and beautiful could be born. He was yet again a godfather. When Draco was born, he was young and still grieving over Lily. But the moment he had held this baby girl, he knew he had to learn to live again for her. Time had healed him gradually, and he had started looking forward to the days that were waiting for him.

And if it meant that he needed to be there for Hermione, he would. He would have to be mature enough to see past her raving about dead Weasley. He would have to teach himself to love and show affection, at least within these walls of his chambers. She must heal. He needed her. They needed her and Snape was not going to let her give up.

He could still feel the raising sense of despair. Perhaps all this was due to their bond, or perhaps a bit of him was still lodged into her conscience or maybe the vise versa. But it was painful. He had tried not to cry out in the growing agony squeezing his heart. But then things had turned foggy. Like a mist creeping over a deserted meadow. He was not so shocked at the bang of the door. But Hermione's face had thrown him off. Those eyes, mirrored hate, death, and murder of ambition, zeal to live. And he had never seen her look so bereft of optimism.

A bang of another door. The bedroom door this time, then another, this one was of his quarters. He had jumped out of the bed. He had tried to call her out. "Mis…Her…". What would he call her as? Shaking his head in dismay, he had sharply rebuking himself at his own stupidity. "Ron, I am Coming." His eyes had bulged out at that ringing admission. He had hardly waited for his mind to work out whether he had heard it in his mind or whether his ears had picked up that call of distress. Snatching his robes from the peg beside the open door, he had broken into a run. His body was still healing from the shock of spells he had undergone through the Battle of Hogwarts and in the Greyback lair strike the bang of wizards had organized. But he could see her dashing up the stairs. And his heart had sunk deeper and deeper.

Pushing himself, he had taken the stairs two at a time, to get to his hysteric wife. Why were the stairways heeding to her requests? Did sentient Hogwarts already start recognizing her as a part of him? The moment the door to the Astronomy door gave in to her silent persuasion, he had started panicking. No, No, No. He had flung himself up, the next of the remaining steps, bruising his knees at sharp edges. Growling in pain, he had picked himself up and had run, just in time to grab the young woman at her petite waist, circling his arms around it and hurling both of them backward.

As they had fallen back, crushing against the hard floor, she had started throwing her legs trying to hit his knees. Shrieking like a madwoman, she had started hitting his arms, her nails had drawn fresh blood. She had nearly knocked at his nose with her swinging head, but he had succeeded in thwarting her suicidal attempt. She was very much alive, locked in his arms. He had rolled their joined bodies onto one side and had pleaded with her, without even realizing it. "Please, don't, Please, please, please, I can't, dear, please."

His baritone voice, breaking into sobs by the minute had quietened her. She was tired and had melted into his arms. Those seemed secure and comforting. But his pleas had anchored her back to his side. She had felt his tears drop on her red cheeks. Severus Snape was pleading to her and was crying for her. She had started to shift a bit. And Snape had adjusted themselves, so that, now she was nestled in his embrace, her head resting on his chest. They were holding on to each other, eyes closed and crying together.

He had to be sure that she was not leaving, so he had whispered into the night air, "Please, stay, don't give up." She was gasped and had gone still for some time. A small wet and defeated whisper had fired his resolve, "Give me one reason, Sir?" Swiftly, he had brought his hands up and had caged her wet face in between his bony palms. Tilling her head up, he had looked into her glistening eyes, her shock could have halted him, but even Time would bow in front of a determined Snape. Bringing his head down he had captured her lips in between his own. She was his, he was hers, and let Death be damned, if magic had decided through their bonding that they were meant to be together, so be it.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

He had to be sure that she was not leaving, so he had whispered into the night air, "Please, stay, don't give up." She was gasped and had gone still for some time. A small wet and defeated whisper had fired his resolve, "Give me one reason, Sir?" Swiftly, he had brought his hands up and had caged her wet face in between his bony palms. Tilling her head up, he had looked into her glistening eyes, her shock could have halted him, but even Time would bow in front of a determined Snape. Bringing his head down he had captured her lips in between his own. She was his, he was hers, and let Death be damned, if magic had decided through their bonding that they were meant to be together, so be it.

He had poured every ounce of his emotion, his fierce resolution into that consuming kiss. He was a master of the economy of words. But his actions did have the capacity to speak volumes for themselves. Severus Snape had seen the world and had grappled in its dark and gruesome underbelly, long enough to understand the value of genuine companionship. It might have been the demand of the Ministry for a couple to consummate their marriage. For him, it was equal to taking a plunge into a sea of pure bliss.

He had soaked himself in that calming water. Had felt his sin wash away as she had held him close. He had drowned himself within her. He had seen his battered soul reflect through her honey-dipped eyes. Mirror of truth and purity. He had also seen the flicker of hope for him to redeem himself. She had unlocked his darkest cells filled with desolation. She had gone in each of those confines and had lit a candle of hope. And now she herself was in need to fire. In need of hope, for she had given away every bit to save him.

He wanted to make her realize she could hide in his arms. She could anchor her shattered beliefs in his deep-seated principles. And rebuild, reinvent life. As he had let his passion override his lingering uncertainty, he had forcefully invaded her surrendering mouth. For the first time, he had truly tasted her. That mouth that had tormented him over the years with endless questions had succumbed to his passionate attack. He had caught her tongue in between his sharp teeth and had sucked on it, like a bee sucking nectar from a flower. He had consumed her moans, her breath, her tears as well. She was his to keep. And he would make sure she knows it, through this single most intoxicating sensual kiss, under the night sky.

Hermione had passed out halfway through the sheering kiss. Severus was nearly glad that the witch was still letting him kiss her, even if she was not an active participant. He had felt her body go limp. Reluctantly, he had released her swollen lips and had whispered against them, "Hold on, please, you are safe, I promise, you are safe…I…will keep you safe." Picking her up, and gathering her in his arms, he had gone back to his quarters. Under the lit-up scorns, he had seen how defeated her face looked. Even if she was unconscious. "So young! A flower that had just blossomed." He had held her tighter in his arms and had tried walking faster.

Once inside his quarters, he had walked inside his bathroom. He had thought she might consider having another shower. So, he had tried to lower her prone body in the tub. But that turned out to be impossible. Since she was still holding on his shoulders in an iron grip. The only thing left for him to do was join her. He had stood up, once again, with her still in his arms. And had stepped into the tub. He had sat down and eased out his body. His injured knee had started throbbing. Shifting his weight, he had managed to secure her legs between his long legs. She was still senseless above his body. Sensing their presence, the taps had started pouring lukewarm water. As the level rose, Severus had gathered a wash towel, wetting it and had started wiping her face. "those tear tracks mar her angelic beauty."

He had never pinned himself as a romantic. Muttering poetry was beyond him. He was an avid reader, and had read several muggle books along with their magical companions. He could not help but agree that deep down he had a sensitive mind and a considerate soul. Perhaps, it was all due to the bond. Or else how was he going to explain, this ebbing desire to simply hold her. This urgency to touch her. This solace after having realized she was here to stay, by him. He had felt himself plummeting towards her, desperate to rip off those layers of grief sinking their parasitic teeth on her mind, and draining her positive resources.

Discarding the wet towel, he had hoisted her up a bit to nuzzle at her neck. He had to listen to her shallow breath. He needed to hear her heartbeat. In the quiet room, with water lapping lazily around them, the tap pouring water in slow tickle, her steady heartbeat was the only music he enjoyed listening to. He had brought her arms over and had crossed them above their prone body. Weaving his fingers through numb ones, he had kept on squeezing, in sync with her heartbeat.

If he had the option to choose, he would prefer this unceremonious bath that he was sharing with Hermione, over all other proprietaries. Here he was a caregiver, a role though not new, as a husband, it was one of the many things he was ready to do. He had wept quietly. Praying for her to recognize him as a man worthy enough. Praying to the universe not to keep him from having a second chance to live. And all the while he had mumbled under his breath. "please, please, please, choose me. Stay with me."

He had felt her take a deep breath and had felt her grow stiff. In a hoarse voice she had accused him, "Why?" Never lifting his head off her neck, he had mumbled against her skin, "What, why?" She had simply shrugged. She had felt numb and relaxed. She had felt a strange tang of euphoria still lingering in her parched mouth. His kiss. Why did he have to be so maddeningly mysterious? He had opened every door of his being ajar for her, still, there was so much to discover. She had to ask something, anything because of his very presence, their close proximity was arousing her. To break that spell she had muttered, "But you…you love Harry's mom."

This time he had gone still. Bringing his head up, he had brushed his nose over her cheek. "Yes…loved." She had nodded in acceptance. Growing restless, she had pushed his hands away, and had sat up, still nestled in between his long legs. He had grown unsure, was his honest answer, pushing her away instead of helping her to see how empty his heart was. She had held herself in a tight embrace, hugged her body with her cold arms. Straightening her shoulders, she had driven the sharp nail home, "I still love Ron."

Bringing his hands up, he had rubbed his face, defeated. He was not needed. She had sat still, hugging herself tighter, and had closed her eyes, shut. Even then, she could replay his kiss over and over. He had awoken her muscles, he had torched up her soul, he had claimed his share and he had shown her how fierce his love for her could grow in a fraction of a second. Each time, she had licked her lips, she had tasted him. And she could not stop herself from doing that again and again. His legs had moved, and she had felt the loss of warmth around her. She heard the water slouch. She had peered at him from under her wet lashes. In the practiced move, he had climbed out. Without a backward glance, he had slowly walked towards the door.

She had felt the quietness prying her open. Hastily, she had called out to him, "Sir, why, I mean, it was supposed to hurt, you know, the girls would say, it would always hurt the first time, why then…"He had caught her reflection over the counter mirror. She was blushing, even in this steamy closed space, her pale skin, her creeping blush, her wet hair, had made him growl. But his was not hers. Not yet. Still turned away from her, he had replied in a husky voice, "Because, Miss Granger, you have already ridden, a thestral, a hippogriff, lived in the wild, rode a full-grown dragon, fought a bloody battle, the hymen can only sustain some normal exercise. You on the other hand, have already lived an extraordinary life."

With that, he had walked out and closed the door shut behind him. If Snape had stayed around a little longer, if he had dared to look back at his wife, he would have seen the dawn of realization on her face. In the empty bathroom, amidst the sound of water and her whispers of breath, she had uttered an epiphany, "But it was one lone panther, that made me feel…" And Ron was never close to a panther.

* * *

Draco was not really waiting for this moment. Well, he was, but not in the way it was slowly approaching. He had been looking at the clock over the mantle now and then, it was close to ten in the night. Maybe in an hour, or perhaps two… He just couldn't fathom how exactly to broach the topic to one very angry, literally fuming Ginny. When he had shown Kingsley, Lee Jordan, and Ginny around his Great Gran's Red villa, the men had nodded in approval, but his new wife had managed to scowl again and again.

He didn't pry into what Jordan had said to his wife. He was rather pleased with himself. Kingsley had approved his workshop and his designs. It was something before the Dark Lord moving into the manor, that Draco had got the wind of this property. He had managed to locate this unplottable land, perhaps his great gran had set the wards to allow him, regardless of his age.

But then, he had spent hours in her workshop. Here during the fifth-year summer break, he had made the snake ring that his wife was wearing in her ring finger. His very first accomplishment. Yes, Doreen Malfoy had a knack for jewelry making, though many were not away. She did have a small business run by other hired wizards, just to keep her off the books. Back in those days, she had managed to start it all by herself. The world was familiar with the boutique called, "Madam Flames, Pretty Precious". Quite flamboyant, but he had looked about and had come across several documents that mentioned how the cream of the magical society would order from this exclusive boutique, having never met the maker. He had dreamt of doing the same. He had called his business, "Red". He would work behind the screen, appoint others to sell his stuff, have a boutique of his own. Women loved Jewels…Mother would always…say…

Ginny had been smarting since Draco had kissed her during the binding ceremony. She didn't wish to think much about it. But the way his lips had moved, the way his breath had tickled her lips…There again, he was looking at the watch…surely, he was too eager to…this was what the tenth bloody time. As if dinner was not torturing enough. Why was he acting so, so un Malfoy like? Why didn't he rise up to her jibes, why did he have to make a lemon-flavored pudding, how did he know, there again, he had checked the time…if he wants it, she will shove it right on his face.

"Why to sit here and check the timepiece, Malfoy, we know we got to finish off sealing this bond, let us get on with it then," screaming at him, with as much hatred as she could master, she had got up and had walked away.

She had stormed inside the bedroom ahead of him. When he had inched towards the open door, he had to stop on his tracks. She was laying above the midnight blue satin bed sheets, not a stitch on herself. Her tunic laid discarded near the foot bench. She had her arms crossed over her chest. He could not stop himself from staring at her. Her chest rose each time she took a breath. Her hair spread around her head, like a halo of a pagan goddess. Her legs long, firm, her stomach dipped, her hips full.

And she was his. He didn't wish to think of Potter or Dean or all those countless boys, she might have snogged in the dark corridors of Hogwarts. Ginevra was his wife. And Draco hated sharing what was his, with the world. Unknowingly he had taken a couple of steps inside the bedroom when she had turned her angry eyes on him. Shooting him with her venomous glare, she had bitten each of the words, "I am not going to let you enjoy it." Turning, she had laid down on her stomach. Her hair fanned around her head. Red against the midnight blue satin sheets. A pale candle, with a brightly burning wick, only he had the right to keep the fire burning with his touch.

He had removed his tunic. His pale slender body had shone. But here no one was eager to partake in his offer. She won't even look back. Like he was dirt below her feet. She won't even touch him as he had come out of the underbelly of the world. True, he was forced to spend days in close contact with pure Evil. But he was his mother's son too. He did have compassion. He could show affection, love, and adoration if only fate would give him a chance. He would die if he was left to his own devices. He needed her, just to live. He needed her, just relearn how to embrace life.

He had gulped a couple of times. He wanted to see her face. Her freckles, her flared up nose, her eyes. Her full lips. He couldn't debate with the reasons for which she was denying him all this. How ironic this was. Throughout his entire life, he had girls whining after him, to undress for the pleasure of their hungry eyes. He might have slept around a bit, but those hasty romps were fumblings in early tweenhood.

He had dreamt of truly enjoying his first time with his wife. Languish in depths of her supple body, cherish her soft touches, kiss her like a mad man. Twisted fate had to go and screw up with him yet again. He had managed to prepare himself through a couple of swift strokes, settling above her prone body, he had allowed himself to nestle over her stiff body. He had dared to touch her hip. But she had simply shrugged his hand off. He had placed his palm, ghosting it over the small of her back, she had slapped it away. Turning her head to one side, she had looked at him over her shoulder, "Don't touch me unnecessarily, Malfoy, if you still love your bits!"

To say he was going to take her lashing laying down, beg for her responses, was a folly. He had enough of it. He had knelt over and had thrust in her, for a moment forgetting who she was, and what they were, and why they were here together at this hour of the night. Surprisingly she had not screamed. She had got hold of a pillow, stuffing it below her head, and had bitten on it. He could see, her hands fisting the pillow in a tight grip. He could hear her whimper. She was not ready. Neither was she allowing him to make her.

She had been painfully clenching her muscles, threatening to choke him. Merlin, even in hatred, she was a seductress. The skin over her back had broken into goosebumps. Taunting him and luring him to have a taste of them. Her spine had flexed. He was in awe with the way each one of those bones had sent ripples through her muscles. Her skin had glowed, a sheen of sweat slowly forming over her naked expense. He had ventured to rub his knees on the sides of her hip, but as a warning, she squeezed, determined to suck out his life, his self-control.

He had leaned forward. The change in position had helped him ease the tension, had helped him slide further in. He could now feel her whole bareback rub against his chest. Exquisite was not even close to explaining this burst of newfound feelings racing in his veins. He had to brace his fall, or else he would end up smashing her into the mattress. In a daze, he had kept his palms on both sides of her head.

To simply think that she was crying, was an insult to nature. She felt like she was being violated. She felt like being shredded into million pieces. In her beating heart, she still loved Harry. And here she was under her new husband, the very person whose father had tried to kill her. Or get her killed, how was that different? She had been biting hard on the pillow. She had been gripping that soft cover in a tight fist, imagining it to be Lucius, imagining it to be the nasty snarling Draco Malfoy she was so familiar with. Hate, undiluted hate was the only feeling she had ever harbored for the Malfoy heir. But this man over her was confusing her ever since he had explained himself in that small ministry consultation room.

No, no, no, she would not give up her hate for his elusive display of compassion. A git is a git. End of discussion. Picking her head up from the now thorough wet pillow, she had caught his fingers in between her teeth and had snapped her jaw on them. If he was making her bleed to consummate their farce of a marriage, she would make him pay with an equal amount of sheering pain.

He had felt her teeth sink in his skin, breaking it, he felt the sting then the burn and had tried hard not to yelp. No, he could not let her have the easy way in this matter. The pain was not something he would allow to borrow and find a cozy home in his marriage. For both of their sanity, he had to find another way. Gritting his teeth, he had kept quiet. But magic made sure to let loose the dam of swirling passion within both of them.

She had ultimately lost the battle of holding her grounds against his thrusts. What had started with a flicker of a small fire below, gradually spread around like wildfire, making her keen. The first wave of her shrugging orgasm had unhinged him completely, He had almost emptied himself, growling and grunting her name. She had heard him above her, and had screamed, "I hate you".

Gripping himself, he had immediately pushed away from her, away from the sinful bed, away from the beaconing, tempting calls of invisible tendrils of her passion. Doubling over, he had curled beside the bed, the after-effects of their undesired coupling rocking through him, disgracefully spilling himself. He had wailed, cried and had hit his head on the floor. Slapping the floorboard, again and again, he screamed, "No, no, no, no, why me, why it is always me, why…." In between those streams of tears flowing down freely through his stormy grey eyes, "Why can't you see, I am not my father, not my father, not not, him, never."

An unsure voice from somewhere above had called him out of his raving, "Malfoy?"

After all this, he was still Malfoy to her. This broke him, shattered his walls, without looking back, he had pulled at the first thing he could get a hold of. A soft tunic. This would do. He had pulled himself up, thrown over the sheer piece of cloth on him, and had literally thrown himself away, into the bathroom. She could have the false satisfaction that she might have succeeded in tearing away his bits, but Draco wanted to be alone, to nurse his open wounds. Slamming the door shut, he had propped himself against it, fresh tears had started falling freely once again.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts, please.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.

* * *

Chapter 13

With that, he had walked out and closed the door shut behind him. If Snape had stayed around a little longer, if he had dared to look back at his wife, he would have seen the dawn of realization on her face. In the empty bathroom, amidst the sound of water and her whispers of breath, she had uttered an epiphany, "But it was one lone panther, that made me feel…" And Ron was never close to being a panther.

No, the room had lost its warmth. She was a fool to think otherwise. The air around was hazy. The water still lapping around her was lukewarm. But to her the place felt cold. Freezing. Dreadful and ominous. She knew in her heart he was the missing piece. Ron…was Ron this warm, hot even? He was sweaty. Though the last time she had held him, he was cold like freezing winter.

She was alive. He had snatched her off the teeth of Death and had held her rooted back to life. Who would in their right mind do that? For someone like her? Pretentious, letting her lover die, and saving her own skin. Scandalous, instead of moaning the death of her love, here she was thinking and wanting, pining right now to be held by her new husband. She might have told him, she still loved Ron, but did she? Could she lie to herself?

Was it fair to compare the advances of a fumbling boy with that of an experienced man…who had perhaps bedded several women in his lifetime? Bringing her crinkled fingers to her lips, she had languidly traced over them. What was he thinking of, when he had kissed her like that under the night sky?

Was there any room for doubting his intentions? Even now, he was thinking of her. She could feel his sorrow, his grief and his helplessness through their lingering mental connection. He had said he loved Lily. Now, he had held her like she meant the world to him. Will he ever mean the world to her? Through every sigh that had echoed through their connection her husband, Severus Snape had been asking her the same question. Will he ever mean the only man she would grow to love and die happily with?

How starved was he? Terribly, or else how could he have so readily consumed her in his warm embrace, plunder her insecurities and for some stranded moments purely made love to her. Severus Tobias Snape had made love to her and in return had taught her how to make love to him. showering her with possessive love bites, which she could now see, imprints of his firm lips over her pale skin. Breathing in new life through those enlivened pores. Rekindling fire in her dying spirit. Where did he learn to alight such wild passion?

Instead of plowing her into the mattress, he had given her the reins to ride him in the beginning. While she had stared into his obsidian eyes, she had seen the spinning universe, she had traveled through space, to his traumatic childhood, to his insecure teen years and had lived through his shame and humiliation. Each and every journey she had made at his pleading, he had drawn a new score, through a nip here, a bite there, tightening and losing his grip on her.

Till the very end, his eyes had begged her to give him one token of reciprocation. She had met his thrusts, reluctantly, or perhaps the bond itself had made she do all those unspeakable things with him. She could have spoken his name aloud, but she couldn't. She could have showered an equal number of love bites, kisses, and nips on his already disfigured body, but she couldn't.

What kind of man was Snape? Possessive, ruthless, loving, caring, nurturing, sensitive, emotional, insecure, a man to fall for again and again….in a space of a single night, a single episode of sealing their bond, through a single sheering kiss, he had managed to rock her beliefs. He had managed to steal away her false self-assurance. He had shown her how brittle her resolutions were, and how easily he could make her fall for his charms. Was he a charming man? With that voice, he was a phantom, stalking old buildings, with those hands he was Hades of the underworld.

He smelled of sandalwood and parchment, ink and potion ingredients. Now all those individual smells had soaked themselves in her skin, even now she could smell him on her. How potent was his musk? Could a potion master invent something that would make him virile? Most definitely. Did he consume something like that? She doubted that. His kiss alone had made her pass out. The blinding truth behind it had shattered her identity as Hermione Granger. She was now hanging between nowhere particular.

Would he make love to her again? Would he come back and join her here? Would he nestle her within his arms and legs and brush away her growing melancholic mood? Heaving a deep sigh, Hermione had let her hand travel down her wet body and stop over the apex of her thighs. Even that felt alien. He had robbed her of her own pleasures. He had claimed each and every part of her as his own and had dared to mark them as his property. She knew this because she remembered that sharp pinch even while riding her way through her many of the first orgasms. Snape. She was Mrs. Snape. She was the mate of an elusive, tracking, hunting seductive panther. Mrs. Hermione Snape. Even that sounded concrete, heavy, decisive and sure, just like the man when he would face the world on his own. Not like Hermione Weasley, a name that mirrored light-heartedness, a lot of laughter, less of the convoluted puzzles of the real world.

Which one would she like to be? An easy-going housewife, or a driven woman who had a right to have her say in these challenging times? She would have to leave this tub, for now, this was so oppressing. Standing up she had looked down at her. Along with love bites, he had also left behind his palm prints. Over the one that had appeared near the curve of her slender hip, she had softly pressed her own. Small and delicate, definitely mousy! A blush had crept up her cheeks, he had called her "love" not once but several times, and with such complete devotion, that the word 'love' itself had grown tendrils of affection and had mingled with her thoughts. He had fondly nuzzled against her neck. Was he fetish about it? What was he fetish about? What did he like to do the most? Bait first, make his lovers plea and pray, and then ravish them?

Hermione had groaned aloud. Slapping her cheeks with both hands, he had pleaded her mind, "Hermione, stop, shut up, stop swooning over your…Snape, he is Snape, and you are Ron's, as of now."

In the confines of this room, her mind had chastised her again and again. Get a grip of the reality before you girl, Ron Weasley is dead, and you are married now. You are Mrs. Severus Snape. Accept it.

She had crumpled down in a heap once again, beside the tub, No, no, not yet, no so fast, she needed to keep Ron alive in her mind, she had no one else. Not even Harry. Even he had left. She had no right to know where he was. He had a family. He was not with Ginny. They had broken up before the war. Their relationship was never to mend itself. She had by now started crying aloud. Oh! Ginny, how would she manage to move past Harry, she had loved him longer than Hermione had pined for Ron. Who was she forced to marry?

The law was necessary and yet a cage of its own. It got each of the wizards and the witches protected through ancient binding spells, coupled with her own design of "the process" it cemented their defensive quotient. Even if it bordered the Dark Arts. What started as a joke, now had a chance to save each one of them from the clasps of Greyback, the new threat to the wizarding world.

A joke to create something similar to dating sites in the muggle world. How had Neville got interested in this weird project of hers, she could hardly remember. But here they were survivors rebinding together, trying to live, adjust to their fast-changing lives, waiting for the werewolf to strike again, but this time, this time, they might succeed in vanquishing him.

A chime from somewhere beyond the door had startled her. Grabbing a fresh towel from the rack beside the washbasin, she had wrapped herself with the soft fiber and had made her way towards the door. The chime had echoed through the quiet chamber once again. Where was he, that was not the clock? She had remembered how the clock sounded from before. That had to be an alarm. Was Hogwarts under attack. She had to be prepared in that case. She needed her wand now. Throwing the bathroom door open, she had marched into the bedroom. Glancing over the slept-in-bed, she had blushed once again, a niggling thought had made her growl, will this ever happen again?

Was she mad, had she not succeeded in pushing away Snape far enough that he had gone back to calling her, Miss Granger? Her shoulders had dropped at that stark realization. Why did he have to leave her wanting more? There were voices coming from behind the door that led to the living area, grabbing her wand from the dresser beside the door, she had crept closer to it. The former was joined by the later. The second had belonged to Snape. Snape, what would she call him now, here within these walls? She had tried to say the word, Severus. It sounded heavy, and soft, like freshly made chocolate, cooling crust outside, molten lava oozing out from inside. Just like the man…his voice had flown in like soft silk over her thirsty skin reverberating through her mind, "Stay where you are, sleep in Herm... Mrs...Miss Granger."

* * *

There, sitting on the marble floor of an old bathroom, the Malfoy Heir had rocked on his hips, hugging himself with all the strength he could manage. Life was a bad joke. A twisted artwork of Cupid. After dreaming about her for night and day, when it was time to be with her…no he could not think of it. It was a sinister play of Fate.

Draco had by now realized how deeply he had fallen in love with his dear "Weaslette". The first time he had called her, he loved how she had coloured. Anger. Unlike Granger, Ginny could bring forth ripples of mirth within him, he loved bantering with her. But with others watching him, he had watched his own mouth. Not that his father had helped in the matters. No, that slimy bastard had to go and hand over Voldemort's piece of soul to that girl.

Draco had felt the sheer pain of having allowed the Dark Lord to skip around his head. How painful, beguiling and tormenting the whole experience would have been for little Ginny Weasley. In those days, he was rather proud of the fact that the youngest Weasley was not as foolish as her brother. Or was not as useless as she might have looked initially. She did have nasty spells learnt up already. She was a witch to toy with. But one would need to read her through and through to do that. Word wars with Granger were amusing, but with Ginny, words would fail, the tension that he would feel around her was different, more animalistic.

She was a wild child. "An adventure to go on," he had heard some Slytherin junior housemates to wistfully mutter in the common room, and he had wondered what magic did she hold in her fingers, that even the snakes could be drugged to such a stupor. And this drug was sitting just on the other side of the door. This drug, even he had tasted. This drug, no she was his wife, His, she was Draco's wife. Let the world dig its own grave. Ginny was Draco's, end of the debate. If he could have it in his way, he would surely skin anyone and everyone who would dare to speak ill of her, look at her with wrong intentions!

He would give away everything to just see those flaming red hair fanning over that midnight blue sheet. She was nature's painting. He had long since stopped calling her Weaslette. He had seen how fierce a duelist she had grown up into. She was Red. His Red. The true single burning flame behind his business venture, "Red". Though ironic, he was to pine and starve for her, and she would continue to hate him with every ounce of her being. His new wife.

He had lowered his throbbing head so that his cheek could touch his chest. Vanilla, lemon, cocoa butter, her scent, her essence…holding the fabric between his two fingers he had realized, he had been wearing his wife's tunic. Well, they had been loose enough. And the war had indeed seen him worse to wear. He had been reduced to a gangly excuse.

Still her scent was inviting. She was not Potter's anymore. That man had vanished from the face of the earth. She was his. Only his. What was the first dream he had of her? Why of course the one where he had shared her broomstick. He had run his hands over her well-shaped thighs…and she had elbowed him! He had nearly yelled at Pansy, given away his secret desires, laying open his deepest fantasies. Draco had chuckled at that memory. She had only grown more seductive. His Red.

"Malfoy?"

He had banged his head against the door. Again, and again. Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy Malfoy! Why was he always just Malfoy!  
"Malfoy, are you okay? Look, I need to use the washroom…"

In one swift motion, he had stood up, wiping his eyes with his sleeves, he had forcefully opened the door, without even looking at her, he had stripped off her tunic and had flung the cloth in her direction. He was angry, he was hurt, he was past caring. Since she was not bothering to show compassion, why should he? He had heard her gasp. Like she was really enjoying his nakedness! What a hypocrite!

He had pulled open the dresser, grabbed the first thing his hands had closed upon. His nightshirt, putting it on with the practiced move, he had gone across the room, to the bed. This bed had borne the marking of his first night. Stupid Cupid! That first night, she had turned him into a beggar! Blinking away his tears, he had grabbed at a pillow and had turned to leave.

The candle lights had made her skin glow, her hair, tousled with their mechanical coupling had tangled into a huge mesh, her freckles had reappeared over her flushed face. Why did she have to be this ethereally beautiful? Her lips, if he could kiss her just this once? He would happily die the very next moment! She had wrapped the midnight blue sheets around her, and she was holding the simmering ceremonial tunic in her hands. He wanted to tell her so many things. He wanted to show her, open his heart out to her. Tell her for the very first time, things he had never dared to speak of.

"Malfoy?"

Jolted out of his reverie, Draco had snarled at her and had stomped out of the door, closing it shut with a reverberating bang. As long as he was just Malfoy to her, he was not going to show her his face. At that moment, Draco Lucius Malfoy had hated himself and his dead family more than anything in this world.

* * *

When she had felt him hover over her, she had tried to think of Harry. She had desperately tried to think of the many times; she had the chance to kiss him. He was not clumsy, and he had been reserved. He had held himself back. She on the other hand had always been the active participant. She had been the zealous one to topple him in a secluded alcove and to have saddled him. But Harry had come back to his senses before she could have shrugged off his robes before she could have taken things further.

How dare Draco Malfoy come to this conclusion that Ginny Weasley would allow him to touch her? He had gambled with her safety. She was going to accept him only on those grounds. Ferret, rich, slimy bastard. Even if he had given away most of his fortune, look at this property, bloody hell look at this snake ring, red and glittering! He was still rich enough to lay down and simply do nothing. Ginny did not care what the lies he might have fed the world to let him go free. Acceptable, he had been working as a second man to Snape. But he was a spy. And you cannot trust those two-faced bastards.

Right from the very beginning she had vowed to make things painfully difficult for him. No he will not get pleasure out of this. Never in this lifetime will she give in to his advances. She was not a woman to be wooed with flowers, jewelry, luxury trips to exotic places. She was Ginny Weasley, a loyal at heart till the very end. But to whom was she loyal to?

She had felt him shift again, going deeper, that did hurt, tearing her very heart! She had cried herself out into that damn pillow. Out of vengeance, she had grabbed at his hand and had sunk her teeth into his pale skin, have that Ferret, A weasel doesn't take things lying down! The whelp had not screamed, had not budged from his perch, he had plowed on and on, like a possessed man, maybe he liked it rough!

She hated it, her first approaching climax. She hated this law, she hated Greyback, she hated the fact that her happy family had been torn apart and had been reduced to battered and lost souls. She hated Harry Potter for breaking it up with her before the war. She hated it when after winning, he did not reconcile. How easily had he stood in front of one dreamy Luna and had kissed her with such adoration?

Ginny had left the room then and there. She had stomped back to the barn at the burrows and had trashed the place in rage. She missed Mum, Dad, Fred, Ron…she missed their bustling lunch and dinner, she missed family…here in this grandeur house, she left like a trapped butterfly.

Fresh bouts of rage and anguish had rippled through her prone body, and she was glad she could direct all of it to the man making her quiver under him. "I hate You". She had cried out finally. He had torn away himself from her as if she had succeeded in inflicting physical damage. Did the binding spell carry settle jinx, if they had failed to consummate their marriage? She had clumsily sat up, checking herself, she could still feel the sizzle of magic course through her magic. She could also feel a foreign magical entity. That would belong to Malfoy of course. Twirling around her magical tendrils, caressing through her veins, it was an oddly welcoming sensation.

She had heard him cry and wail, beside the bed... Slapping the floorboard, again and again, he had screamed, "No, no, no, no, why me, why it is always me, why…." "Why can you see, I am not my father, not my father, not, not, him, never." Crouching on her knees, she had crawled to the edges. Peering over, she had to hold on to the frame, so that she would not topple over him. In the flickering candlelight and the burning fireplace, Draco Malfoy's back was riddled with criss crossed scars. Puncture wounds, stab wounds.

She knew of the Sectumsempra spell incident, she had been too put off that the ferret had survived that attack. But along with those tell-tale scars, there were many others, old, and older still, healed one as well as half-healed one. They rose over his pale white skin, pinkish distorted marks, disfiguring the fallen Slytherin Prince. She had tried still, that could just be a ploy, a glamour to make her pity him?

"Malfoy?"

Without looking back, he had pulled at the first thing he could get a hold of. That was her Tunic, for Merlin's sake! He had pulled himself up, thrown over the sheer piece of cloth on him, and had literally thrown himself away, into the bathroom.  
Alone, shocked, baffled, Ginny Malfoy had whispered to the empty room, "What the fuck was that about?"

* * *

A/N: Thoughts please, to love them right in these troubled times.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.(dg)

* * *

Chapter 14

Draco had made up his mind to go to the ground floor study. He liked the ornate fireplace inside. It made him feel at home. Reminded him of the fireplace in his mother's parlor, in front of which he had spent many hours playing, studying, and listening to his mother read out books to him. To the world, Narcissa Malfoy had been a shadow of his father. But to him, she was a caring mother.

Mechanically he had stood in front of it staring at the licking flames. Why did everything around him have to remind him of her, now? Why couldn't things go back to what they had been before all this? She could have remained unattainable? He could have continued to struggle with his own monsters, while spending hours at the workshop below, or painting something or the other in his great Gran's studio, or cooking a dish perhaps just to watch Dorsie shooting daggers at him?

He had heard a silent pop close to his feet. The trusted elf had turned up. she had wriggled her long bony fingers and had quietly asked, "Is the master needing something?"

When Draco had turned to stare back at her blankly, Dorsie had managed to give him an apologetic smile. "Dorsie, would you transfigure some of my robes, into something appropriate for your mistress? And could you please deliver the pink potion vial sitting on my potion table, at the lab to her, just insist her to use it, would you?"

"Dorsie will do it just now." The elf had reached out and had gently patted his hand before disappearing with a pop.

Draco had grabbed the throw from the couch facing the fireplace and had decided to lie down on the fur spread before it. Warmth, he was much in need of warmth. Heaving a sigh, he had sat down and had puffed his pillow. A cup of hot chocolate had appeared in front of him. Despite his melancholic mood, he had smirked, "Thank you Dorsie."

* * *

Standing in this grandeur shower, Ginny had closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the way the warm water was rolling over her skin. Its pattering sound, its steamy sizzle had calmed her. She had let her hand travel down to wash away the evidence of what she could only define as a sinful act a violation of her body.

She had expected Malfoy to be brutal. She had expected him to hit her, beat her, curse her, or even…anything that would describe him as an oppressor, a bully. But he had stubbornly remained accommodating. And he had hit the right keys to bring her over to completion.

She had shaken her head, trying to brush away the fogginess. As long as she could think clearly, she could have her acts ready to defend herself against the ever-plotting ferret. But those scars? She had seen scars before. Most of her brothers had them. Charlie had them. He would joke that they were a token of appreciation from the dragons he would train. Bill had his, a cruel reminder that Greyback had nearly snatched him away from them. George and Fred…oh! Fred…

Even Ron had his scars to make stories about. The big cry baby of the family…how he would narrate fantastic tales about how he had acquired them during some quidditch match practice, or some bottled neck match with the Slytherins only to have her burst his bubbles in front of everyone. And now, she was married to the Slytherin Prince. Disgraced, stripped of his wealth, living in self-exile.

But he had been too subdued, quiet, brooding and he did look a little lost. How on earth did he know of her addiction to lemon desserts? Had he watched her gobble them during Hogwarts feasts? She had always thought he only had his eyes trained over Harry. No, she would not think of that man. Heartless bastard.

Walking out of the shower, she had mechanically toweled herself dry. Hermione always believed doing things the muggle way sometimes helps you to rearrange your thoughts. She had tried very hard to be angry with the muggleborn witch, her best friend of sorts, her sister in law to be perhaps. Neither was she having it any easy with the greasy git of the dungeon was she! What had the world come down to? Wrapped the plush towel around her, she had tentatively, walked out of the bathroom. She did feel sore.

"Woah!" Jumped up nearly a foot, terribly trying to keep the towel still covering herself, Ginny had come face to face, with an equal flabbergasted Dorsie.

"Dorise is extremely sorry, Mistress, Dorsie is a bad elf, Dorise will iron her ears this very moment, Dorise will throw herself out of the window!" the tiny elf had her hands over her eyes and had already started running towards the window.

"Dorsie, wait!", tying the towel a bit tighter, Ginny had managed to grab the elf at her elbow.

"You don't need to punish yourself; you had just surprised me." The elf had given her a scrutinizing look, but had gone ahead to bang her head against the footboard of the bed, "Dorsie will still punish herself."

"Dorsie, that's enough, what's with you, elf! Dorsie, ten bangs, enough now!"

When the elf had turned back to her, she had given her a disapproving look, "Can you tell me, why are you here?"

"Mistress needs a dress to wear, but Mistress needs to consider something first!"

"What?"

"Master means no harm, Master never meant any harm, Master is hurting, master…master likes Mistress more than he can tell."

"Did Malfoy send you here to brainwash me?"

"No, Master had asked Dorsie to get Mistress a dress, and also give Mistress this…"

Extending her palm out, the elf had handed over the pink potion vial. Tilting it to see the portion more clearly. Ginny had asked, apprehension and mistrust laced in her voice, "What new trick is this?"

"Master had asked for it, from the Potion master, he was aware it would hurt."

Biting her words, Ginny had spat, "It would hurt! How thoughtful of the ferret."

The elf near her feet had looked insulted, narrowing her eyes she had retorted back, "Does Mistress remember the dark Wizard?"

"Which one, your master was surrounded by too many of them?"

"He-who-must-not-be-named, Dorsie knows what he had done to the young Mistress, Drosie's nephew works at Hogwarts Castle. Master had to live with he-who-must-not-be-named. Master had to do things to keep his mother safe. Mistress can hate Master as much as she wants to, but Master has always wanted Mistress to be safe."

"Stop it!"

"Mistress, Master hates his sire. Dorsie hated that man, he had tortured Master, had nearly killed him once. Dorsie knows, he still has those scars. The dark wizard did very very bad things to Master. Master can't sleep at night. Master worries about Mistress. Dorsie only asks Mistress to think about what Dorsie has said. Look beyond Master's words, Mistress will find Master's eyes always speaking the truth!"

With a pop, the house-elf had left. Beside her, on the disheveled bed, Ginny had found a rather pretty set of satin night blue pajamas, along with a burgundy robe and a Slytherin green tie. Absentminded, she had run her finger over the snake ring on her finger. Her lips had parted, and a single word had tumbled out of them, "Malfoy?"

* * *

He had tossed and turned. The throw had got twisted around his legs. No, No leave her. She is innocent. She did not steal. She was at Hogwarts all this while, no, don't hurt, her, leave her please, Aunt, Please, don't hurt her, Not the knife, don't, she will lose it, didn't you have your fill, stop that Cruciatus curse, let her off, please…please. please…he had seen the glinting knife, come down, he had heard the madwoman crackle with mirth, he had heard her scream, red hair, freckled face, mouth-frothing blood- NOOO!

Ginny, Ginny…she was supposed to be next to him...he was supposed to protect her. He had vowed! Gin… Ginny…!

"Malfoy! Malfoy? Wake up! Dra…you are dreaming…. it is a nightmare…wake up!"

His eyes had flown open the very next instant, someone was hovering over his prone body, red hair, oddly familiar, it could have been her? No, she hated him with every fiber of her being! He had rolled over, taking this apparition along with him. Nestled under his stronghold, trapped below his sweaty heaving body, Ginny had looked back at him in utter disbelief. He wouldn't let this Polyjuice assailant get the upper hand, he had brought his palm up to cover her face. He had sent a tongue-tying curse through his hand. That can deter any nonverbal spell. And he had truly looked down at his wife's wide eyes. Red flaming hair, surrounding a pink face, and a pair of ocean blue eyes staring back at him in shock. His Ginny. His ethereal Red.

* * *

Neville had unlocked the bedroom door and had allowed Blaise Zabini to walk into his small space- his abode for those long summer and winter holidays, his room till he had got his letter to Hogwarts. It had been his alone until yesterday night. The cottage had been eerily quiet after Gran had died. He had felt ill at ease since then. Every sound that those open windows would make, would, in turn, make him jump on his feet. The War had made him jittery. He had the habit of sleeping with his wand under his pillow from his Hogwarts days. But now, he would sleep holding it in his hands. Even in sleep, Bellatrix's voice would haunt him. Those students' last cry of help during the battle of Hogwarts would haunt him. Lavender's shrieks would terrify him. He had been glad that Blaise had saved his fellow Gryffindor.

He had seen first hand how the Slytherin had cradled her wounded body, and how he had nodded at a baffled Neville in determination. The Italian had worked it out in his mind, the death eaters are here, so the anti apparition wards are down, and had shouted St. Mungo's once. The next moment he had vanished. Zabini was clever. in his own way he had informed Neville, he was going to get help for Lavender. And the later was to prevent others from following him.

Lavender's words had made his blood turn cold. He had not wasted any time in informing Professor Lupin about the vital piece of information the injured girl had managed to deliver. He had failed to remember how he had felt after seeing Professor Snape, who had been standing next to the former DADA professor in an empty courtyard. Relief, glad, happy or unaffected. Neville had felt rather calm and unaffected, unconcerned and bereft of remorse. So many had died, so many were being hunted and killed. His parents were not going to get any better. His Gran was killed. And he was married. He remembered attending Bill and Fleur's wedding. Marriage was supposed to be celebrated with friends and families. The house was supposed to be surrounded by laughter, joy, the sound of children playing around, anticipation of the groom and the bride, the air should smell of love, of the perfume of flowers, of delicious food.

Instead, he had an acquaintance walking up to his new bride's bedside. Another male was going to sit and wait for his bride to wake up. Then that person would try to make her see reason so that she would finally give her consent and allow Neville to sleep with her. Watching Blaise sit on the edge of the single bed, he had growled and had left the two of them alone. Walking out of the cottage, he had made his way towards the little greenhouse. His only place to find solace. Opening the trap door and closing it shut, he had heaved a sigh. How long was he holding his breath? Rubbing his eyes with his palms, he had walked over to the flower beds he had been working on for the last couple of days.

Pansies. He had been growing them in rows. He had learnt from professor Sprouts, the subtle ways to arrest weather conditions in order to grow seasonal flowers all through the year. Apart from medicinal herbs, and edible vegetables and fruits, he had started growing flowers. His mother would look at the array of various flowers which he would clumsily bunch up and present to her, whenever he would get a chance to see her. Lilies, baby's breath, tulips, roses, bluebells, sunflowers. He had come to the conclusion, perhaps, Mum would simply get attracted at the display of colours. That might trigger impulses in her quiet brain. And maybe, in the near future, like he would get lucky, she would connect the flowers to him? After the war, he could hardly get time. Would she respond to the news of his marriage?

Shrugging off the depressing thoughts, Neville had picked up a watering can and had slowly made his way to the flower beds. He had cried enough while getting whipped, humiliated, disgraced and exploited in the hands of Carrows. He had yelled, shrieked and begged for mercy. But mostly he had cried like a babe. When he had seen Pansy crying in the same way, something had snapped inside. He could not allow her to face the same fate. Until then, she had been an enemy, pug-faced, high nosed daddy's princess. But when Greyback had ripped her dress with his claws, had licked her face, had chuckled at her discomfort, Neville had to act, for his sanity. She had been no different than him. They both had become victims in the hands of troubled times. Their fates had decided to join hands. Their bond was sealed then and there.

Sprinkling water over each row, he had taken time to caress the small petals, these won't grow too tall, but in weeks' time, they would shine proudly. Apart from kissing Luna, going on a date with a Hufflepuff once or twice, Neville had no experience with ways to conduct himself around girls. He had friends, and girls had limited their interaction with him to friendly exchanges. Now after the war, he had fan mails brought by strange owls. Several of them had made him turn red in shame. How was he going to make love, no, Pansy would not agree on that! Well then, have sex with his wife…mindless act with no emotions attached, and at the end of it, she would hate him more and he would berate himself further. And, he was sure, she would mock at his inexperience.

"I can't even ask around, Can I?" he had mumbled to himself. He, for one thing, would definitely not seek Zabini's guidance in this particular matter. He had thought back to the time, he had held her close. Pansy, she was beautiful to his eyes. Even if she had hated him, mocked him, had made fun of him. He could understand the feelings underlying this desire to love that girl who now slept in his bed. He wanted to belong to someone. He would not go to a brothel to hunt for momentary satisfaction. He had his hands for that. But he wanted to be touched. Touch, the most important pivot of any human relation.

Neville had held magical creatures in his hands. He had danced with girls through the years at Hogwarts. But feeling his hands wrapped around Pansy's face, feeling the brush of her warm breath over her face, feeling her pulse beat under his palms, he had wanted so much more. Ghosting his fingers over a single flower, the violet variety of blooming pansy, he had laughed dryly, then, sighing once again he had mused, if Blaise is able to convince her if she agrees, if she trusts me, if she starts seeing me as a well-wisher, we can proceed…tomorrow night is Full Moon. She will start to experience the subtle effects. She will be excited, she will be aroused, and if, I can manage to do what I have planned for, in order to heal her, she might simply take the lead…


	15. Chapter 15

The regular disclaimer states I only own the AU and OC, the rest is borrowed from JKR's world.

* * *

Chapter 15

Blaise Zabini had eased a sigh when he had heard Neville Longbottom growl and shut the door close behind him. Since the time he had seen Neville lead the offensive of Dumbledore's Army, he had grown weary of the man. Yes, the fumbling, shattering, cauldron exploding boy, had grown taller, confident and oddly quiet.

Zabini knew from handed down experiences how perverse where the pureblood families were, how sinister were their decadent minds. He would have bet on his wand if the Slytherin housemates were unaware of the many tortures Neville Longbottom had undergone in the hands of the Carrows siblings. The death eaters were known to be innovative and their own children must have tasted the leftovers of their parents' regal or worse, they might have fallen prey in the hands of some notorious acquaintances of families.

Taking a deep breath, he had intently watched Pansy. He had known her since? He could hardly remember. It seemed they had grown up altogether. Draco, Pansy, Astoria, Daphne, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, himself…and Hogwarts was just a step to solidify that childhood friendship. The Slytherins were treated like pariahs, and the Slytherins chose to live like Kings and Queens, heads held high and always protecting their own. Their dorm was their world, where they could live freely, without watching over their shoulders without pretending to be nasty snobs.

He had taken some time to look about the room. It was not overcrowded, neither was it sparsely furnished. It was not a teenager's den, it was just simple. There were small orchids placed inside a glasshouse near the window. There was a trunk at the foot of the single bed. There was an ordinary dresser, a mirror near to it. There was a study table, a worn-out chair, and a bookshelf. Getting up from the bed, he had walked up to it. Though several of the tomes were falling apart, definitely second hand, or handed down through generations, not all of them were on herbology- Longbottom's favorite subject. There were muggle books on studies like science, botany, anatomy, chemistry, zoology…to think Longbottom was an avid reader!

"How little we knew of you, Neville! Does Professor Snape know, that you are so thoroughly invested into so many things, does Hermione know, you are no less know it all, what would Draco have to say, if he ever walks into this room…"Blaise had run his finger over the spines of the muggle books. They felt odd without the habitual buzz of magic. Turning back to the still sleeping form, Blaise had leaned back at the table and had continued to watch his friend.

Pansy had been lying on her side, the blanket secured over her body. Neville would take care of her. Gryffindors are lions. He had caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. From the window, he could see a trapdoor from the entrance of the barn swing open and Neville walking out of it.

"Blaise…Oh my god, Blaise is that you…" Before he could even decide how to reply, Pansy had jumped out of the bed and had hugged him tight. "Blaise please, please take me out of this place, Blaise please!" she had whispered close to his ear.

"Panse! Pansy, just, just settle down, now, now, there is nothing to cry, Pansy, let go of me!"

She might have eased her choking grip but she had looked up at the tall man. Squinting her eyes, she had asked, "Why? How come you are here? Who are you?"

"Panse, It is me Blaise, and Neville has asked me to be here, Panse, why don't you sit down on the bed, and…" he had looked away from her, suddenly conscious of her undressed state. Realizing that in utter excitement she had forgotten to wrap the blanket around her tightly, Pansy had blushed and had returned to the single cot, this time hitching up the blanket and securing it around her torso.

In a cold calculated voice, she had murmured, "Why are you here Blaise, why is n't Draco here?"

Turning the chair to face her, Blaise had sat on it and had run his hands over his face, taking a deep breath he had finally looked up at his childhood friend. And the first thing he had seen was the long claw marks on her shoulder, running over her collarbone and down below…He had closed his eyes and had gathered his wits once again. If he could get a chance to fight with Greyback he was certain, he would not think twice before casting the fiendfyre curse.

"Some of us know that you were attacked by Greyback. He has marked you. Pansy…no…listen to me…That beast had gone after Stori and Daph. That beast had kidnapped Fluer Delacour's sister, had raped the little girl, barely a teen and had forced her to carry his child, poor thing, she died in a cave due to childbirth…Pansy, if Greyback has a wind of your location, he would do the same with you!"

"I…I.." the memories of Greyback holding her, pinning her, ripping her clothes, abusing her…had flooded back.."Why..why…"

"Pansy. I am sorry to be blunt…but you need to trust Neville, he has been instrumental in saving your neck from Azkaban. Ever since, the Battle of Hogwarts, he has been lobbying on your behalf, he was the one to save you from Greyback, he had alerted Snape and the rest of the Order, he has also worked day and night to come up with a sort of a remedy to cure…those…" He had pointed to the scars, angry and red against pansy's soft pink skin.

"Pansy…don't push Neville off, he..he means no harm, you can have my word on it….you do know…how terrible the Carrows can be…or do I need to remind you with specifics?"

"Do you think they had…?"

"What makes you think otherwise Panse,wasn't that their most favorite way of punishing…?"

"Oh, Gods…"

"Pansy, look before you speak, think before you judge, and read the person before you…and only then decide how you are going to deal with him. Like all of us, Neville Longbottom is damaged. Lost, wounded, hurt and struggling. And so are you. Accept this law, if not for anything, for your own safety. Because I am certain, Longbottom will not flinch to swing that sword once again."

"How can you speak so highly about him?"

"Look at you? Judge yourself…I don't see you being mistreated, I see you are being fed, I see you are being taken care of, I smell healing balms on you, apart from those ghastly scars you have got, there were other wounds, which Longbottom had taken care of. I see you are allowed to sleep it out. He has not touched…can you name anyone, who would not take advantage of your situation?"

"He…he had pinned me against the wall…and had tried to force me to…"

"To what Panse, kiss him…?"

"YES!"

"And then?"

Pansy had shrugged and looked away.

"I know what happened next…you might have provoked him, but he did not rise to that bait, you might have lost it, and he had sat next to you holding you healing you and covering you with the most expensive blanket the man could afford. And if I am not reading into things too much, Longbottom cares for you more than he gives away."

Fiddling with the corner of the warm blanket, she had stupendously inhaled its scent. Male, earthy, mossy, warm.

"What does he plan to do?"

"Simple heal you."

"What…you mean…" pointing at her scars she had looked back wide-eyed, "you mean to say, Longbottom would help me get rid of these…"

"Pansy, he is determined. I would insist you give the man a chance…"

"He…how, can I?"

"Pansy, look at him, he is not the same sniveling boy, you know that don't you?"

"Draco?"

"Is Married! Hell, woman, we are all getting married, with the drop of a hat, we don't like it, but we need to to stay safe, the magical binding spells assure safety..why can't you see it!" hanging by the end of his patience, Blaise had growled and had yelled at the covering girl.

"Pansy...I am sorry…but this is the only way…!"

"And I insist Mr. Zabini, that henceforth you speak to Mrs. Longbottom with respect, friend or old acquaintance, I don't care."

They both had turned to find Neville standing at the doorway, his jaws clenched hard, his eyes burning, his wand trained on Blaise Zabini. The Gryffindor had looked at his wife once and had returned his menacing glare back to the Italian.

"I am sorry Mr. Longbottom."

"And you should be, I may not have the fortune to show off, but I am an honourable man, and so must my wife be regarded as one, do not step out of that line, speak to her respectfully."

"Long...Neville…Blaise didn…I had pushed him far…" Pansy had managed to stammer.

Neville had nodded once and had turned to leave when her voice had floated back to him. He had stiffened at that. His name on her lips. It sounded sweet. Was there a way to hear the flow of ambrosia…?

"Don't sugar coat, Mrs. Longbottom, I am not Draco Malfoy, the one you have been pining for…I don't seek love or affection. I mean to ensure your safety and consider Mr. Zabini standing next to you, as the guarantor. Once you both have finished with your chat, please come out…we need to start the procedure…"

With that, he had walked out and had softly closed the door behind him.

* * *

Why did life have to be so demanding? Had he not sacrificed enough? Neville had lived like an orphan, had endured the taunts and the tease of fellow schoolmates, had lived in fear of one of the most ferocious teachers of Hogwarts. In a way he was glad, he was not the chosen one! Had he been, he would have simply perished in his first year. Then suddenly he had become a hero, had taken the responsibility for an army of students, had earned the respect of elves, had been given Merlin's First Class.

Even Professor Snape had sort after him, ready to discuss his research on the lycanthropy healing remedies. What begun as a spare-time project to keep himself occupied, had now turned into a necessity? He had yearned for Hermione's presence. Even her bossy muttering would help him ease off the building tension. Looking down at his robes, he had realized, I won't be requiring these.

Walking up to the small bathroom down the wall, he had closed the door with a soft thud. Shrugging off the robes, he had hung it on one of the pegs, removing his tunic, mechanically, he had hung it as well. Turning back, he had caught sight of his mangled back. And had felt those tell-tale shudders, growling in pain, he had sat down on his knees and had got hold of a box from below the washbasin. Fetching a potion, a handy invention of Snape, he had downed that in one gulp. This would ease the burn and the sizzle but he had to keep his mind still, to see through tonight. Winching in lingering pain, he had stood up and had gingerly eased himself into his only bathrobe.

There was a knock at the door.

Instead of walking up to it, he had managed to speak aloud.

"Come in."

It was Zabini. "Pansy is..mate, you don't look well?"

"It will pass."

"The after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse…"

Chuckling dryly, Neville had murmured, "is there anything else, you don't know, Slytherin?"

"I don't know whether to pin you as a sadist or a romantic!"

Neville had laughed out loud. "You have a way with your words, Blaise, I will give you had, then his voice had dipped down to a whisper, "I will not hurt my wife, I can assure you of that with a Gringotts stamp."

"Pansy knows…I mean about Carrows."

"That is not surprising, I am glad she has more reason to have fun at my expense."

"I will leave that for you to judge. Now, how can I be of help, I mean, if you can instruct me thoroughly, I learn what needs to be done, in order to help…"

"There is a barrel next to the washbasin. Fetch those potion cakes from the glass box, you would need two, one you throw in the water of the tub. And the other inside that barrel. I have already charmed the pipelines. We need to ensure that Pansy must be both submerged and drenched with the mix. You…"

"I will be in the corridor, right outside…I think she has started undergoing the first effects of the scars."

"I…"

"Neville, I know, I should n't be the one to say this to you, but I am the only one here. Mate, forget everything for some time. Just imagine, here is someone, you have started loving, liking, caring for, and to you she is drop-down gorgeous. Make her see the caring side of you as you have been so far…Pansy is a spoiled brat, we all are mostly, but we are paupers in one criterion…love. Show us love, and we will be ready to kill for you."

"Blaise, will she ever love me…"

"This is a new world, Neville, we must change accordingly."

The door behind him had opened again, and Neville had caught the sight of Pansy standing behind the Slytherin man, he had come to consider as a comrade of sorts. She had been biting her lips, looking everywhere but him. He had swallowed once and had stood up.

"Blaise, she should step inside the tub, once it is filled up to the brim, and then you can put on the shower."

A little hurt that her new husband had been ignoring her, Pansy had walked in and had stood next to Blaise. Her friend had offered her an encouraging smile and had turned away to give her some privacy. It had felt odd to step inside a tub filled with a glistening liquid still dressed. But the moment she had lowered herself in the water, she had felt it. Every cell on her body had burnt, every nerve had jolted in surprise, she had tried to jump off the water when a burst of the same liquid had rained down on her from above. She had fought against the combined forces and had splashed away the tub, determined to run away from it all. Then she had felt someone tying her hands and legs apart.

Neville had sent those special body binding spells at her, letting those ropes tie her down. He had seen the first signs of the potion doing its work and had grabbed at Blaise's shoulders, shoving the baffled man out of the door, hurriedly whispering into his ears, "Look for those red scars to shine like the moon, always, always look for those scars to shine like full moon…"

Before he could slam the door on his face, Blaise had put a foot inside, his voice urgent, "How are you certain?"

"Rita Skeeter is dead; the world knows she died from werewolf assault. Cover up. I had healed her and had killed her. She was working for Greyback. And she had gone far too deep. We would all have died if she was left alive."

In utter shock, Blaise Zabini had walked back, letting Neville shut the door. He hadn't realized the other man had handed over his wand to him. A wizard without his wand. A wizard who would stop at nothing to ensure that the people he cared for are safe. This was a new Neville. A Gryffindor who will strike first and then ask questions. The war indeed was a nasty piece of work.

* * *

A/N: I know many of you will find it difficult to agree, but imagine a soldier, or the person having undergone unspeakable torture, will he flinch to kill in order to save the ones he loves and cares for?


	16. Chapter 16

The regular disclaimer stays I only own the AU and OC, the rest is borrowed from JKR's world.(np)

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Chapter 16

Shutting the door firmly, Neville had turned toward his struggling wife. She had been glowing, against the pale bathroom tiles, over the brim of the tub, pulling at the bindings, while her eyes rolled back, her body jerked. Gulping down his hesitance, strengthening his mind, he had taken a few steps forward. Mumbling under his breath, he had tried to ease away the knot forming inside his dried parched throat, "She will be fine, she will live this."

Pansy had moaned and had arched her back. What started as an electrical shock, had slowly grown into euphoric spasms. She needed something, anything, to stop these vibrations rocking her body. Anything felt like this below. What had Longbottom given her, a potion, a drug that made her sense dance erotically? Amidst her ragging nerves, she had recalled Greyback chilling words, "You will beg for me, you will beg for me to ride you, you will want me. Lass you cannot escape."

In a panic she had shrieked, "Help, save me, he will know, he will come, Greyback will come, save me." Neville had torn off his robes and had dived inside the splashing tub, carefully settling him over his wife. Holding her head within his palms, he had implored at her, "He will not, Pansy, he cannot, if…if we manage to seal the bond. Please Pansy, allow me. Think of me and Me alone." When she had blinked at him and had sucked in a shallow breath, letting the ultimate plea fall off her chapped lips, "Please," he had positioned himself and had pushed forward.

She had cried out, her ears were buzzing, her skin was on fire, her brain barely able to work out the rushing waves of primal desire. She felt full and complete. Her head had rolled back, but he had managed to secure it, stopping it from hitting against the brink of the pristine tub. He had been grinding his teeth, hardening his mind, as the ripples of raw magic had started coursing through every sinew of his body. This was madness, senseless joy. If being nestled within her would make his shudder with such unbridled pleasure, he would accept every such invitation without holding himself back. His knees were bucking under his weight. But he had tried to stay still, for her sake, if he would fall over her, she could drown…

Snap. His eyes had flown out, alert. But then Pansy had managed to roll him over, below her. She had swiftly saddled him. Gasping underwater, he had managed to bring himself up, and sit against the tub. This was rough, raw and a struggle for dominance. But he had never prepared for this sight before him. Carrows had managed to mangle his body, his soul and his desire to be with someone. But this apparition of an exquisite water nymph had robbed him of his insecurities. Jostling against the remaining binds, Pansy had managed to rock against him, her nails were now digging into his chest. He had felt the sparks slowly bristling along his spine, he had felt the tingling sensation of his approaching climax, he had felt her magic meeting his own with unabashed acceptance. And she was glowing. Every inch of her body was glowing. As if the moon had come down on the earth, inside his humble abode and had found its ultimate home.

In disbelief, he had spoken aloud, "Pansy, Pansy, Oh! Pansy!" Her scars were glowing like stars, no like streams of unicorn blood, like molten silver…He had gripped her hip in one hand, and in the other he had managed to hold her head, locking his fingers in the confines of her wild chocolate brown hair. She had screamed and so had he. She had dug her nails further and had drawn blood. He had lost control of his mental barriers. He was not a master of occlumency, but he had knowledge of rudimentary meditating skills. How to separate your mind to experiences that might drive you mad otherwise…

They had both shuddered in joint ecstasy, and she had leaned further towards him, desperately trying to catch hold of his lips. But Neville had pulled at her hair, halting her progress, frustrating her ragging demands. Quaking against her, he had realized he had been crying all along. "No," gasping for breath he had asserted, "No, you don't get to do that, you don't, I am not a doormat. You don't get the luxury to kiss me and tell. No, kiss me, only when you mean it, with your body, mind and soul."

She had whimpered in his arms, easing herself over his solid frame, she had tasted blood. Hiccupping, snorting like a lost child, she had snaked her arms around him. He had felt like home, driftwood in a vast ocean. A ray of light in dead darkness. Below her, he had mumbled a series of well-meant apologies. Above their tangled body, the shower had continued to sprinkle the mix of that sweet-smelling floral concoction that had made her forget he was even human.

The beastly call that she had heard before at the back of her mind had vanished, gone away, ripped off from her soul. Inside she could feel the comfort of his magic. Powerful just, compassionate, comforting, endearing, loving. Love had been a plaything. But this was raw and real, engulfing her senses. Below her, she could hear his heartbeat. It was a deep thud, a sure strong heart, that knew how to protect. She felt so exhausted, so relieved and so past caring of her own predicament that she had decided to fall asleep over her accommodating husband.

The moment he had felt her body give away, instinctively, he had snaked his arms around her, whispering, "Finite incantatem" he had helped her settle over her, massaging her scalp, he had tried to ease away the pain he might have cause for gripping her hair so tight. He had never imagined sleeping with someone. Never had that occurred to him. "But a tub, for a bed, how many surprises does life have in store for me…" He had looked down at his sleeping wife.

Even if Neville Longbottom had dissuaded his new wife from kissing him during their very first time together, he had softly planted a chaste kiss on her brow. Running his hand over her now healed scar, he had marveled at his success. The raw red abomination had been replaced by narrow lines that were still shining but their intensity that reduced. They will grow dull within hours. And she would almost look anew. And he had smiled. Like the old Neville that the world was familiar with. The old Neville who was shy and sensitive, loyal and concerned, soft and loving. By saving Pansy, he had managed to save himself. If she would have me, if she would consider walking beside me, I would never doubt myself. Ever Again.

On the other side of the closed door, Blaise Zabini had managed to unfold himself from the fetal position he had laid down in, while Pansy's scream, Neville's grunts and those eerie lights from under the closed door had lit the corridor floor. Wiping his tears off, he had heaved a sigh thinking to himself, "If Longbottom has done it, My Lavender would still have hope to look out for…if she struggles, I will hope, I will fight, I will hope for both of us. Merlin, see me through."

* * *

The Ministry of Magic had taken into account the unique case of Daphne Greengrass. Though the girl had been otherwise unhurt. "But she is too traumatized with her recent assault, I would implore the Ministry of Magic to reconsider this particular case and allow the intended couple to have a closed-door marriage ceremony. If they would ignore this and expose the frightened girl to a crowd and to those flashbulbs, they must also prepare to cause unwarranted damage and take the blame for it." A very irate Healer who had come all the way from 's had warned the panel of ministry officials without giving a knut to how that might affect her career.

Thus, it was fixed that Seamus Finnigan would marry Daphne Greengrass late in the afternoon when the ministry was closed for the day and much of the crowd had felt for their individual homes. In addition to the intended bride and the groom the ministry had allowed only two immediate relations to attend the ceremony. That was how George Weasley found himself standing beside Astoria Greengrass, whom he was to marry soon after, they had sent off the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan. Astoria had helped a bewildered Daphne into the ceremonial tunic, while George had stood beside the small enclosure where Seamus was getting his attire straight.

The Irish man had been beyond himself, muttering ever since they had been summoned up into the special section where such closed-door marriages were going to be conducted. "Bloody hell, I am getting married, and I don't have a ring for my bride! Merlin, on my mum's grave, I swear, I thought of a fancy week-long wedding, not a sign of and kiss short cut! These, this is a farce, I am supposed to be wearing this flimsy thing, here of all places…"

George had smirked and had tried too hard to laugh at the expense of the good-natured fellow Gryffindor. Yelling through the partition, he had mocked, "Oh Shut it, Seamus, you got goods, so you can show them off."

Swinging the door open a very red on the face, Seamus had retaliated crossly, "I prefer my wife or my girlfriend sees me, thank you and not the entire ministry of magic." Dean Thomas had walked from behind a grinned George and had shoved a heavy bundle through the half-open door, "Stop acting like a girl, get those on, they are robes, and some of them are other kinds of stuff for your wife, Hannah Abbott was thoughtful enough to bring them along, remember to thank her you dolt before leaving for your sweet home." George had turned and had asked, "SWEET HOME?"

"Yup, the man lives over a bakery, his rooms smell of vanilla and cocoa all the time, "winking back, Thomas had walked away to check on the Greengrass girls. The man in question had finally walked out, giving George a shrug, so that he could change into his attire as well. "You know he is right, I would give you the specifics later on, once we figure things out, so that, you get it, right?"

"For Astoria…"

"Yah…for Daphne."

* * *

Astoria had tried to keep calm. Helping Daphne out of her clothes and then easing her into those shimmering ceremonial tunics, she thought, she missed mother more than anything. She was getting married. And so was Daphne. The girl in front of her had twirled a bit, holding the soft cloth in her hand, and Astoria couldn't stop those tears threatening to blow up her calm persona. Slowly gathering her sister in her arms, she had whispered into her ears, "Daph, trust Seamus, as you have in all these days, and remember I am only a floo call away, these are the good ones, they know how to love and to take care of their own, I will miss you, sis."

Daphna had not uttered a word in reply, but she had simply hugged her tighter, patting her back and then when she had walked away, a step, the younger sister's hand helped her wipe her tears.

Astoria was a little hurt to see the very first time her sister had spoken after all these days was a word, they would all associate with Seamus Finnigan. Right after the man had placed a careful chaste kiss right on her curiously staring sister's lips, Daph had looked up in awe…and had mumbled the word, "Iris…?" It was funny to watch Finnigan turn red. That man could blush in a way that would surpass even the coyest girls Astoria had met in her life. And with that they had left. She had tried hard not to whimper, but George had playfully bumped her shoulder. It was time for them to undergo the same process.

* * *

When they had both apparated near the famous Weasley Burrow, the accompanying aurors had just allowed them to cross the protective wards and had apparated away. It had been the night before the full moon, and the pale hue of the moonlight had given the lone standing shapeless house an eerie persona. She knew, it was late, even for dinner. That's it? She had thought to herself. George Weasley had not said a word after the ceremony. During it he had simply spoken out when asked to, but she could feel the man was sincere when he had repeated his vows, the ones that had initiated this ancient binding spell, they all have been relying on. But she had been certain this Weasley twin was yet to fly off the cliff. And she had felt it when they had kissed, though his lips had just brushed against her, his firm grip on her hands had tightened in desperation.

Opening the front door, the tall man had chuckled dryly, "Home, or whatever is left off it!" in grief, he had been employing cynicism. In the morning when he had managed to drag himself into the shower, he had yelled at the wall for a good measure. He wanted Fred to be beside him, he wanted Mum and Dad. But they were gone! He had doubted the ministry's choice. Astoria Greengrass to become a Weasley. How easily had she taken up the task to act like an intended wife? Seducing him, smiling at him, though not being too obvious about it…but he would think ten times before relying on a Slytherin. Old habits die hard. His sister was trapped in a marriage now, and so was he. He would have to tread carefully. These days you never know, who among them was a planted spy of the werewolf alpha?

Ginny had been thoughtful enough to leave a decent meal ready. The poor girl had taken it upon herself to manage the household, even while grieving over her one-sided love for Harry. George would find it hard to say something to her, instead, they had brought out a few of Daddy's Muggle contraptions- a music box and a barely function TIFI. Those would play muggle songs like the wizardry radio they had. As for the TIFI, that one showed moving images, the muggles called them movies. There was a late afternoon segment where a hilarious small man with too large clothes and a brush mustache would do absolutely nerve crackling things. But without dialogues. This Caplin guy had managed to lift up the siblings' dwindling spirits…

He had turned to his exploring wife, "Umm, you would like a tour of this…" Astoria had sensed his uneasiness. She had quietly replied, "I am hungry."

George had looked up at her in shock as if she had just grown a new head out of nowhere. "Hungry? oh, yeah, well there would be some surely." He had walked up to the kitchen, with Astoria in tow. He was used to having Ginny around, pattering about the whole space, following him just like she had done as a toddler. But having Astoria around him had made him suddenly aware of things. The swish of her robes that were still on her. She would not stomp about, instead actually walk, like a ballerina. The twins had discovered that word when the Veela girls had explained several dance moves to them. That was funny actually, when all they wanted to do was dance and kiss those girls, they had to endure their ceaseless chattering about dainty toes and whatnot. "The plates…?" "Over the counter beside the window…cutlery in the drawer beside the oven…mind the shelf door, that is tricky…"

He had brought out some of the cold dishes, a one-pot meal and had got the freshly baked loaf from the bread box. Settling on the table that had once housed several members of the boisterous family, he had sighed. Astoria had looked up from her place, sitting opposite to her new husband. He was struggling not to fall apart, for his own sake, and had tried to offer a word of consolation, though she had softly said, "Bon appetit."

He had smirked, a corner of his lips lifting up just a bit, and had dug into his food, but throughout the meal, he had looked over his shoulder, over a cabinet on the far end of the room. He was thirsty, he was parched, and he would not be able to carry on this homely facade for long. He needed a drink, just one drink, to calm his mind, to keep those hallucinations away. He needed to keep sane to tackle the witch sitting across and smiling at him now and then. He had felt suspicion clouding his judgment, who was she? Astoria Greengrass…no…who then…a consummate death eater…who else could she have been a daughter of the sympathizer of the dark side would always be inclined to the pull of Dark Magic?

Finding it hard to gulp down anymore, he had swiftly got up and had walked up to the cabinet. Opening it swiftly, he had brought out a bottle of Firewhiskey, had taken out a tumbler and had filled it up to the brim. Downing the whole thing at one go, he had poured himself another, shaking his head, trying to fend off those memories, Fred's dead face, Ron's mangled body. Percy's burnt…soft hands had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had plucked away his half-empty glass. He had whirled towards the culprit ready to punch the assailant right on the face. And Astoria had shouted back, "That is enough George Weasley, come back to your senses this minute..."

He had snarled at her, nosy witch as if she owns him like she has bought him, his right to do as hie wishes…" Or what? What will you do, curse me, Huh!" He had grabbed her up the arms and had pushed her against the wall. How could they assume he was the man to be tamed by a sophisticated, prim and proper witch? Astoria had been shocked by the sudden change in her husband's behavior, but she was a Slytherin. She had succeeded in knocking her head hard enough to give him a bloody nose, her wand had been under her dress, a disadvantage of this tunic.

George had let go of her hands, but now before ripping them at their shoulder seems and had held on to his bleeding nose, "Merlin saggy pants, what did you snakes do in your dungeon butt heads!" The fireplace had chimed and moments later, Ginny's urgent voice had echoed around the house, "GEORGE! GEORGIE, WHERE ARE YOU! ITS MALFOY, he…HE IS HURT, HE IS NOT MOVING! GEORGE!"

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A/N: Thoughts, if you can spare some...


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.  
My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet.

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Chapter 17

With that, he had walked out and closed the door shut behind him. If Snape had stayed around a little longer, if he had dared to look back at his wife, he would have seen the dawn of realization on her face. In the empty bathroom, amidst the sound of water and her whispers of breath, she had uttered an epiphany, "But it was one lone panther, that made me feel…" And Ron was never close to being a panther.

Standing outside the closed bathroom door, Severus Snape had swayed a bit. Grabbing on to the door frame, he had found he needed to once again find his place, hold on to some driftwood. For his whole world had got shipwrecked by the three-letter word "Ron". He had never liked the boy. Though he had tolerated the rest of that family. He would be a cynic if he was to believe he outrightly, abhorred the twins.

Though Percy had been a preachy, rule-abiding boy, and Bill a hard worker, Charles a studious boisterous creature lover; Ron lacked all these qualities which Severus had expected him to inherit. It seemed the Weasley generic qualities had skipped a child and had found roots once again in the youngest Weasley girl. Ronald Weasley was hot-headed, loyal, friendly, easy-going and a strategist. But those alone were not enough to woo the enigmatic Hermione Granger.

That lingering pang of jealousy had pushed at the walls of his heart and had nudged him to turn back and scream at his wife. Closing his eyes, he had counted to ten once again. He needed to focus on the greater things, and he needed to get Hermione to focus on them as well, and if possible, forget and forgo the Weasley.

When he had managed to rein in his erratic emotions, he had looked up, only to see the disheveled empty bed to stare back at him. A curse had flown out of his mouth. All he wanted was to burn that wretched reminder of pleasure that was not his to claim. He had felt cheated by Fate and Destiny. But could he die now? Right at this moment! He felt even the ghosts of the castle were laughing at his expense.

Blinking away his tears, he had stormed out of the room. When he had finally walked into his personal potions' lab, his emotions had given away to silent tears. Pulling out the nearest stool, he had sat on it, letting his tears fall free. Several cauldrons of wolfsbane potion were brewing. The tendrils of smoke that danced over their open mouths reminded him of her chestnut hair. Reminded him of her slender arms, reminded him of her shallow breath that had caressed his body, kissed his neck, his chest, his lips, his temple. He had dared to think of the forbidden? Will she ever kiss him? Will she ever desire him, as he had? Why was it difficult for others to take the leap of faith when it came to him? Why did he have to be so unreachable for the rest of them? Why did his father, the Marauders, Lily- each and every one of them treat him in such inhuman manners that he had to hide away and lock himself behind those iron walls of his occlumency shields?

He had seen Longbottom in the courtroom, sitting right next to his new wife. To say that he was baffled at the young man's earlier proposal was to put things lightly. This bloody war had yet again, turned kids into sensible adults. At first the stammering Gryffindor had sent him an elf in the middle of the night, informing him that a huge contingent of students was camping in the room of requirement. And that he had managed to make the room pay heed his orders. He had thought perhaps Granger had a hand in that.

Then he happened to meet the man. In a dark unused corridor. Longbottom had planned it out with the elf. Drawing his wand out he had bravely asked Snape about the Boggart incident. Snape had snarled and had muttered distasteful, "…then you had turned the boggart version of me into a blasphemy…"

"Headmaster, you need to be specific, or else, Spots will be too happy to toss you out of the castle," A rare sly smile had appeared on the familiar boy's smooth countenance. Finally, he has grown up. Snape had to eat his words, his many insults and disparaging speeches that he had inflicted on the boy, "I was wearing your grandmother's dress, bag, and hat."

Neville had immediately relaxed, though he still had his wand lazily trained on the stoic headmaster. "I am sorry about that."

"Why did you wish to see me?"

"To thank you and to inform you about something other than whatever is going on with the Dark Lord."

"So you think I am loyal to the cause and not death eaters."

"I am sure sir, in between your Dark Lord and a pervert like Greyback, you would still prefer Voldy!"

"What?"- his surprise had echoed through the empty corridor.

"Like I said, who would you prefer to kneel in front, if given as a last option, definitely not Greyback."

"Where did you hit your head this time...took a tumble down the stairs I presume…" Snape had managed to drawl, even if his mind was racing miles ahead to understand the implications Longbottom was hinting at.

"I am coming from Processor's Electro's whipping room, but you are aware of that, aren't you? But that is not the point. The point is we need to come up with a secondary plan, to fend off Greyback…"

"Where did you come up with this information?"

"You must be aware what Harry and the rest are doing by now, and like you a handful of other death eaters have come to the same conclusion, Headmaster. So has Greyback. But he is not alone and divided, is he? He has a pack, strong and obedient, and driven. Every one of them hates something with great passion. Their subject of hate is Us, the wizards. Imagine, with the Dark Lord vanquished and several of the wizards dead and killed, who will live on, a handful of us and the werewolves, who will grab on to that situation and encroach, invade and conquer the Magical World…you are far more intelligent sir."

"What do you want?"

Longbottom had handed him over a vial, instead of replying. "Hermione is a prolific teacher. She had taught me to brew wolfsbane, just in case, Professor Lupin needed restocking and you were not around."

As Snape had tried to wrap his mind around this strange encounter, the wall behind Longbottom had shifted, and the young man had vanished into the darkness. Only his soft whisper had managed to reach Severus, "Decide fast, Sir, Greyback will not give us time to recoup. Pansy has already been marked."

The next time it had been one of his own. Blaise Zabini. The dark Italian had been brought right into his personal quarters by determined Spots, the feisty elf. The very night before the Final Battle. The young man had looked worst to wear, but he had succeeded in reporting that Pansy was indeed fine, she had a narrow escape from the clutches of the death eater werewolf.

They had indeed won the war, and as predicted by Neville Longbottom, many wizards and witches had fallen prey to Greyback's surprise attacks. They were lucky, truly very very lucky to have rescued the Brown and the Greengrass girls.

A soft chime from his office had jolted him off. This was an odd hour for someone to come knocking at his quarters. Unless there were fresh attacks to be informed off. Reluctantly he had got up and wiped his face thoroughly, he had made his way to his sparsely lit office. The many bookcases, cramped around the room, had made it impossible to throw an adequate amount of light into the closed space unless one was lighting a thousand candles at one go.

It was not the door. It was the floo connection. Someone was trying desperately to contact him. But who? Fetching his wand, but hiding it within his robes, he had discovered he had been utterly unprepared for this sudden meeting. Like Hell! This is my wedding night after all! That should be expected of me!

The moment he had flicked his wand at the fireplace, it had burst into green flames and a very familiar face of Blaise Zabini had appeared.

"Good evening, or would that be morning, Sir?"

"Mr. Zabini, please step in."

He had thrown a side glance at the still closed bedroom door, as an added precautionary measure, he had sent a nonverbal silencing and locking spell at it. Blaise had caught him staring at the door, and had the decency to look away.

"I am sorry for disturbing you at this hour, I should not have kept you away from your wife. Accept my compliments and do extend them to Mrs. Snape."

"I will."

"Sir, I came to inform you of some of the major occurrences at the ministry after you had to leave with Granger, I mean Mrs. Snape."

"Take a seat, Mr. Zabini and please abreast me with all that I happened to miss."

"Before that, I would like to hand over a present I have been entrusted with by the Headmistress." Digging into his robes, Zabini had brought out a small parcel. A quick tap of his wand had transformed the miniature present into a sizable box, that one required to manage with two hands. Setting it over Snape's ebony dress the young man had offered a shy but genuine smile, "she had also asked me to tell you, she often dreamt of the day, when she would find you married to your perfect match."

Grimacing at the words, Snape had simply shrugged, "Enough of compliments, tell the Headmistress, to recover faster, she has a school to run, after all. Now, spill out the rest."

Before Zabini had left, Snape had gone back into his lab and had brought out three vials. One he had shoved inside his robes, and the other two he had delivered to the young man's extended palm.

"How confident are you that Longbottom's trial test has been successful?"

Twirling the offered vials in his hand, Blaise had muttered, "he had asked me to stay back in his cottage, while…he…they…"

"How had he planned to go about it? Miss Parkinson was never an easy person to deal with reason…"

"Neville has changed more than we could have given him credit for Sir. He is very much a Slytherin, if he decides to put his heart into it. I don't wish to ever know what had happened to him under Carrows, but he does have this capacity to strike when you least expect it. All he has shared with me is that the potion needs to be applied all over the wounds, all at one time. And that sir, can only be achieved if you are spraying the patient, or submerging him or her in a tub filled with it."

"I had reservations regarding its consistency. It was thick like tar. he had mentioned just a scoop of it, would perhaps, reduce..An innovative approach, and utterly unexpected from Longbottom."

"He had suggested the same for Lavender."

"Mr. Zabini I would like to remind you, this does not cure the tendencies, For Mrs. Longbottom, I was told she had been mildly attacked but for Mrs. Zabini…"

"I know, my influential relative has been benevolent in providing us shelter for the same purpose. If I have to lock her up…"

"Which you will certainly have to…"

"I know, I mean there is a room that will serve that purpose…but Longbottom seemed hopeful, Sir, what do you think…"

"The ancient texts written by the German wizards indicate, she will have her faculties intact, but you will have to understand, she is a woman and especially for her, looks do matter. That is among the primary scars along with the mental trauma, you need to handle with care. I don't say this is an easy walkthrough, Blaise, brace for the long fight."

"I am prepared sir, I won't be able to meet you as often, due to security measures, but I will send words through Dean or Seamus. Sir, just don't rattle Seamus too much, I mean that poor man has Daph to care for, she is still to say a word. Even though Thomas had mentioned, during their binding ceremony, just after he had kissed her, she had muttered, "Iris". Though I am not sure what that means."

"It is some progress at least of some sort, Mrs. Finnigan, recognizes her Irish man."

The former Slytherin student and his former head of the house had shared a burst of light-hearted laughter. The only one they could manage in these hard times. Blaise had left soon after.

* * *

Instead of going back to the lab or to the bedroom, Severus had sat alone in the living area staring back at the still-burning fire. He had hated the fact of how fate and destiny had intervened on his behalf. Running his fingers along his right wrist, he had felt the ridges of an old heirloom. Into the chilly air of the dungeons, he had whispered, "finite incantatem". A simple bracelet shimmered around his bony wrist. It belonged to his mother's only Prince Heirloom; the woman could afford to leave behind for her son. He had found it buried inside his mattress. His mother had died, probably in the hands of his own delusional drunk father…he was barely seventeen years old.

Dumbledore had always emphasized the power of Love. Though Snape had failed to taste its sweetness, he did have his fill throughout his miserable life of its rancid bitterness. He had loved Lily, but she had never loved him back equally. He had even vowed to protect Harry as a testament to his unrequited love. But he had always thought, his mother never really loved him enough. Or else she would have stood up against his muggle father. She was a witch, after all, …for the most part of his life, he had borne a deep-seated grudge against his submissive mother. Why did she take things lying down? Why didn't she fight back? Revolt?

He had been just like her, sniveling Snape! It was only when he had realized, this life was his own to protect and no one else actually cared whether he was alive or dead, that young Snape had truly turned into a new leaf. Before that he was a boy hiding behind books, speaking in soft tomes with his only friend Lily. Dark Arts had been his way to fend with this horrid uncaring world. And that had brought him under the Dark Lord's notice. Still gazing at the licking flames, Snape was smirked, the seductive taste of power, the desire to belong, the desire to be appreciated. The Deatheaters had been so accommodating…. Until all hell broke free.

Heaving a deep sigh, he had realized he was still wearing his robe, and not a stitch under it. If Blasie had noticed that, he was a smart man not to utter a word about it. Fiddling with the bracelet, he had smiled, the same one he would perhaps reserve for Theadora or Hermione. Love had worked its magic without even letting him learn of its presence. Had he been port keyed away each time he had lost consciousness barely managing to reach the nearest apparition point…

Perhaps that had happened or else why did he not feel the rare act of magic when he had been traveling through time even if it was just a couple of minutes. He was there in front of the Dark Lord when the horrid snake had struck, but before he could even feel the blinding pain, he was standing close to the mouth of the tunnel. Potter, Hermione, and the stupid Weasley had just crept into the house, right in front of him. He didn't know what had happened next, he did not wish to know, he was just aware of the sizzling bracelet on his wrist and had looked up to the heavens, muttering in awe, "Mother! You loved me, all this while, you loved me, watched over me!"

Disillusioning himself, he had left the grounds. He had to have an ally. And Remus Lupin had just been there right in front of him. The werewolf had been battling with too many death eaters. Snape had just taken out a few. And had shoved the man into an empty classroom, literally saving his life, since the wall outside had just collapsed. He had just revealed himself and had fled away to fight other death eaters. Much Later after the recurring midnight attack carried out by Greyback, Snape had divulged the secret of the bracelet to the man.

Lupin had caught hold of his sleeves and had urged, "How did you do it, Snape? How? Those three had told us, you were dead, the snake had bitten off your neck, they had seen you bleed, then how? I don't believe you had arranged for a doppelganger?"

Revealing the bracelet, Snape had murmured, "I didn't. This did."

He had then asked Lupin to fatally attack him. It had taken some coaxing, but once Lupin had managed to act on his anger, he had watched in awe, how Snape had simply been present in both places. They had been dueling on a deserted courtyard on a rarely used portion of the castle. Lupin had literally felt the shivers run down his spine when the real Snape had stood to wait behind him, the Snape's apparition had lingered in front of him, nursing a wound and finally vanishing after an hour.

A spy would always be a spy. He would plot ahead of the others. Recalling Lavender's words, assimilating Lupin's warnings, it was Snape who had approached the newly appointed Minister of Magic to sanction the raid at Greyback's Lair.

But Harry Potter never ceased to wonder him. From the turrets of the Astronomy Tower, he had seen the rest of the Battle unfold. He had heard Harry Potter declaring him "Dumbledore's Man". And at that moment, he had been truly proud of the boy. He had never felt the lurch of his heart, the pull at its sinews, until that moment. Every one of those witches and wizards had belonged to someone. But he? He was one lone panther? He had always been jealous of the Marauders. It had taken him years to master the skill. Deep in the forbidden forest, he would practice. Dumbledore had been the first to know. And he had enjoyed revealing it to the Transfiguration Professor. Those were the only days she had been nice to him. until he had to go and follow the Headmaster's Strict orders, throw the Killing curse and spare him from an agonizing death. Draco had changed sides soon after the incident of the Prefect's Bathroom.

How these children had turned themselves into weapons. Look at Neville Longbottom, if only Alice and Frank would get to see how brave and just, how wordly-wise the boy had turned to be, they would be proud of him. Like Snape was. The boy had just made sure to save another life. Looking at Blaise, he was stunned, these kids were truly teaching the world the many ways to love and strive to live life. Seamus Finnigan, Fred Weasley…These Hogwarts students had transcended to a newer level of excellence. The finest specimens of Magical Britain.

But he was prouder of Hermione Granger, the woman who had stood against every vile doctrine of this magical world and had crushed them under her feet. He had felt bad for Draco. The boy had risked his neck time and again to save his mother. Only to watch her die in his father's hand right away the demise of the Dark Lord. Will Ginny Weasley look past her hatred and truly see how broken her new husband was? Will Draco make the sensible choice to share his life with her? Will he show her his true self?

Looking back at the box delivered by Blaise, Snape had realized how much he missed Minerva and Albus. These were the two people who had made an effort to seek him out, even if he had been downright bitter with their manner of disrupting the little luxury of peace he would get in his quarters.

He had tried thinking about how it had felt to hold baby Draco in his arms all those years ago. But had failed to recollect those exact feelings. Instead, those feelings he had felt stirred within him, the moment he had held Theadora in his arms, swearing to a dying young mother, barely a tween, that he would protect the babe, came back to him like crashing waves. The child had curled herself close to his chest and had wailed. Wiggling in his bony arms she had tried to get close to his skin. A quick spell had unbuttoned his waistcoat, the shirt below, and babe had rubbed her cheek against his pale skin, right over his heart. Her baby hair had tickled him, her chubby fists had knocked against his chin.

He could still hear Fleur's scream, when the veela had managed to locate her sister in one of those treacherous caves. The poor girl had been pregnant, the werewolf had forced himself on her again and again. And now, she had gone into labor. Lupin had taken up the reins of the attack from that point.

"Severus, tell the others to kill any wolf trying to enter the cave, tell them to guard the mouth of the cave with their own life. Greyback will know his mate is going under labor, he will be back."

Fleur had urged, "Can't we just apparate her away?"

After sending his Patronus, Snape had joined the others in the dingy cave, "No, Mrs. Weasley, we can't, not when Gabrielle has gone under labor. And the baby is approaching, I think she has been in pain for a long time…"

When the baby girl was born, Lupin had handed her over to the young unwed mother. But the girl had been hemorrhaging already. None of his healing spells, his potions were working anymore.

Gabrielle had whispered his name, her head resting on her weeping sister's lap," Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Delacour?"

She had given away two charming pendants that were still there around her neck. "My grandmother's…but these I could charm…I would like you to have one and give the other to Luna Lovegood. I name you my baby's godfather and Luna, her godmother. Harry Potter should keep her away, far far, away from the Alpha…keep…her safe… her mate has already born… take them away…. they are your last hope…"

The mother had died, still holding the wailing child's tiny fist.

Contrary to his nature, Severus had wished that the Aurors would have appeared a little late. That Draco would not have alerted them so early. He wanted to hold on to the child a little longer. Just a couple of moments more. It had torn his heart into pieces simply to watch the mother die and then to hand over the child to Lupin. He had remembered the way Kangaroos carry their kids, how the women in the muggle world often wrapped their babies on their back, while they were busy with their daily work.

With the steady flicks of his wand, he had made a similar carrier for Lupin, adding several protection wards to the sack that criss crossed over the werewolf's chest. When the Baby was packed up, the DADA professor had flinched but had nodded back to Severus, mumbling, "Go, you got work to do, before letting them catch you.

That was the last time he had seen him alive.

He had gone back to Poppy to get help with the items which he would need for the baby, he was certain they got to hide. Before they had gone out to raid Greyback's Lair, Andromeda had mentioned him about the Grimm Folklore and he knew there were stranger things in this magical world, still hidden, still unknown to the rest of them. If folklore had any credibility, then that was the only means to save those babies. Greyback would want the girl and he would also want teddy to be a part of his pack.

He was glad Luna Lovegood was the godmother, those children were surrounded by powerful witches and a wizard who had defeated the Dark Lord himself. Even with her eccentricities, Lovegood would find faith in old magic, in prophecies. It would come easily to her, then perhaps to Ginny Weasley. It was a good match. Perhaps the ancient prophecy was going to come true…

He had not attended the ceremony instead he had been busy, packing supplies for Andromeda, Harry and Luna. Miss Granger had been quite intuitive to suggest many other items. Back then, he never realized she would be selected as his wife. Were they truly that compatible? Staring back at the door, he had wondered what his mother would have said to him about getting a wife, would she have been overjoyed like Molly Weasley? Perhaps, perhaps not. Like him, his mother had been a quiet woman.

Once again, Hermione's blushing face had appeared in front of his eyes. Was it the binding spell? Severus had wished it was not. As a spy, he had hidden under one disguise or another. Now he wanted a clean slate. At least someone in this world would know who he really is? At least he could have his wife to learn every little nuance of him? But would she ever want to?

* * *

A/N: The Grimm Folklore would get thoroughly discussed in the future chapters. But please keep in mind, I will adapt the real Grimm brother's tales to suit my story, and it will be completely fictional.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my AU and OC, for the rest of the things you read here, they are toys manufactured by JKR.

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Chapter 18

A blinding light and a flutter of wings had drenched his dim-lit study with luminance that could parallel the sun itself. Fawkes, once who was Dumbledore's familiar, had attached himself to ever dedicated Severus Snape and had come back after a night's flight around the Hogwarts's property. Many were not aware of the fact that the phoenix was also a dedicated guardian of the school, and in these troubled times, he too was doing his bit.

When he had first entered his secret lab at Hogwarts, fleeing from the Aurors hunting for him, after their successful raid at Greyback's Lair, he had found the Phoenix waiting for him over the back of his desk chair. After staring at each other for a long moment, he had heard the phoenix's regal voice echo inside his mind. "Hello Potion Master. It is good to see you able. Albus would have wanted this to happen. No, you don't need to be alarmed, you see me for who I am."

When the baffled potion master had nodded in reply, still unable to tear his eyes away from the blazing bird, the voice had once again floated through his consciousness," I had given my word to the former Headmaster, I would not set myself ablaze and never regenerate, but would consider you to be my new master. Grimm hours are yet to pass and now we must join forces, both that is forgotten and the one that is threatened to go extinct. You have more allies than you think Potion Master, magical creatures do not just judge actions they seek for the answers that make the doer act in those ways."

A letter of confirmation of sorts from the late Former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was then handed over to him. And after reading it for the umpteenth time, had made him accept the phoenix. Most of the time, the bird would keep away, leaving Severus to his rigorous pursuit for a solution to the unique problem at hand. Even when he had the wounded werewolf captive in his dungeons the bird had not objected, inside had remained inside his personal quarters waiting for the new master to crawl into his bed after a tiring day.

"I was wondering when will you be back?" Snape had drawled his eyes lazily hovering over the magical bird busy preening itself.

The same regal voice had echoed in his mind, "I was busy, so were you, I thought it was better to leave your wife and you alone. I see that the binding spell is in place. Though a very, very fascinating turn of events, I reckon. Two souls with the same magical affinity…"

"What?" Snape had felt a chill run down his spine, could this be true, was this the reason he had been feeling attuned to Hermione's personal thoughts, desire, pain, and grief?

"Yes. Soul binding. But to anchor your magic within the core of your spouse, to bind your magical affinities together does border Dark Magic…those have dark intent behind the action, if we are switching it into a beneficial one, we are making our defenses strong…" chuckling at the expense of the shocked spymaster, the bird that continued, "some will feel the same things, read through minds, and think the same way, some would respond to pain and to pleasure, some would join together through laughter and mirth, and for others, it will be the game of wit and passion. Soul magic, rare still, is the magic that fits with absolute perfection."

"You mean, we are… that is Hermione and me, we are soul mates…?" He had whispered, wary of his own flailing voice.

"Always has been- a secret I knew but never shared with Albus. Your wife awaits your presence, she feels your ongoing turmoil. Tonight, the grounds are quiet, but evil lurks still around, don't drop your guards. The Minister will soon be at your normal meeting place. Introduce me to your wife. I will stand vigil, while you need to be at other places of great importance."

The bird had fluttered once and then had flown overhead. Still dazed, Snape had got up, picking the gift from Minerva, and walking up to the door. A small wave and a handful of nonverbal spells spoken under his breath had unlocked the door. Even then, out of courtesy he had knocked and had called for her, "Herm..Miss Granger, are you awake, I..I would like to come in now?"

"Yes, please…" her voice had flown through the wooden partition and had caressed his battling senses, he had heard Fawkes chuckle beside him and had dared to look cross at it. Pushing the door with the nudge of his shoulder, he had walked in, with Fawkes flying in after him. To say that Hermione was just surprised would be an understatement. His young wife had been sitting on the bed, with her back rested on the headboard, one of his many books propped open on her lap, her hair bushy and disheveled. But the moment she saw Fawkes, she had leaped out of the blankets and had her wand trained over it, with one hand clutching her heart. Snape had noticed, she had changed into the ceremonial tunic, the only dress at hand. I will have to do something about that as well.

"You are alive? You were alive all this time? You were with him all this time? "

There my work is done; the bird clears the air for now. Fawkes had given him a reproachable look and had hopped on the bed, near to his still standing wife. Hermione had extended her hand and the bird had allowed her to brush her fingers over his chest.

"He is talking to me in my mind, is that a form of Legilimency, Prof…er…sir?" Honorees tumbling down her lips, the very ones he had tasted under the night sky, had twisted his heart. Swallowing down the rising bile, he had replied in a dry voice, "Magical creatures of the highest order can do that."

Gesturing to the box in hand, he had walked into the room and kept it over the bed, looking everywhere but her, he had added, "Headmistress McGonagall has been kind enough to send this as a wedding present. I think you might find things you would need for the next few days, as for your clothes and other requirements, the elves will help you with that, and I too can get them, just make a list of them."

Speaking to her in this way was difficult. Especially while she was looking at him imploringly. Especially when she had been biting at her lower lip in urgency. He had turned towards the wardrobe in the room and had brought out robes, cloak and dress clothes. Hermione had noticed in the flickering candle lights, Severus Snape preferred shades that were closest to black. Midnight blue, dark chocolate, and even deep forest green. "And not just black?" had she said all of that aloud, in utter embarrassment she had dipped her head down, looking at her bare feet, she had blushed in crimson red. A husky baritone voice had whispered over her bowed head, "I am glad you have that bit, figured out." She had jerked up her head in surprise, when did he cross the room? Bringing his thumb up, he had freed the nearly bloody lower lip she had been furiously gnawing at and had whispered sinfully, "Don't. it is torture…" He had peered into her glistening eyes in admiration, affection, but she had felt that lingering touch of melancholy and sadness behind all those dominant emotions.

In a swift motion, he had felt her standing there and had entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She had turned to find Fawkes looking at her intently. She had his voice once again, "Little one, trust him like you always have. And feel him like you have always yearned to…he is not a figment of your deepest fantasies, your most secret desires, he is alive, real. Embrace him. He is cold, freezing, and only your warmth can give him a purpose to live for himself."

The door had opened again, and a fully dressed Severus Snape, the man familiar to every covering Hogwarts student, had walked back into the room. Turning towards the bedroom door, he had looked back at her and had swallowed a couple of times. Shaking his head, he had said in a matter of fact way, "Stay here, inside, Fawkes will keep you company. I need to go out, where, I can not tell you. Sleep if you want to. When I am back…I promise you, I will come back. So, when I am back, we will have much to discuss and plan and then act." In billowing robes, her husband had left the quarters, leaving behind a burning flame dancing over her lower lip.

* * *

The tunnel under the willowing tree was familiar. Right there, right within its dark insides, Severus Snape had cheated death not once but twice. Trudging through the narrow and damp pathway, he had mused upon his relentless fate. After the incident with Lupin all those years ago, he had hated the tree, the tunnel and the Shrieking snack with vengeance so deep, he had been this close to burning the whole thing down.

When he had finally reached the trap door, he had tapped thrice and then had scratched on it five times. From the other end, someone had tapped five times and scratched thrice. Snape had mumbled an unlocking spell and the face of the present Minister of Magic had appeared from the doorway. Both had nodded at each other. Once stepping inside, the potion master had closed the door firmly shut, sending a precautionary locking and silencing spell over it.

The Minister had lit a candle in the darkroom and had arranged two low stools around it. The windows were already tinged in a way not to give away anything happening inside.

"Severus."

"Kingsley."

"I would take it that you have been briefed by Blaise about almost everything that occurred today."

"Nearly."

"I am afraid of backlashes, many of the couples were not happy about it, and the press had a field day. Though it was strange not to see Rita Skeeter among them with her vitriol spouting quill scratching on a notebook."

They had shared a significant look, then the potion master had asked the very question he had been wondering about the whole day, "Any concrete information of the whereabouts of the alpha werewolf?"

"Nothing but baseless rumours. The closest person who could nub the werewolf's plans was Lupin. And we can rely on you of course, due to your gathered knowledge from your spying days."

"Back was elusive and brutal in the beginning but down the years he had developed his methods, now he does not like leaving behind breadcrumbs. Though I am almost certain we cannot trust everyone with the confidential pieces of information we have at hand. We can not let him be aware of the various nets we are placing around him."

"The spells are likely to provide initial protection and will give us time to assemble if he strikes now."

"A lot depends on the level of acceptance to fight together, remember these witches and wizards are being forced under the circumstances, and the binding spell is likely to consider the emotional impulses to direct magic to retaliate at the time of need. Until then, we must keep vigil. It is a good thing Greyback is organized within his pack, but he had little faith in the structural organization of the wizarding world."

"What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord to find his way to manipulate the ministry in some way or the not, in his time, there were Malfoys, Parkinsons, Notts getting things done, Of course, Crabbes and Goyles..." sucking up to his breath, Severus had leaned forward, his eyes burning, "Kingsley any news about the whereabouts of Goyle and Bulstrode?"

"No, those kids are yet to be traced...what are you concerned about, Severus?"

"Greyback won't rest, he will be scheming an act of revenge. And now, I can't rule out the possibility of spies among us. We need to find the children of Dark Lord sympathizers, they are the most vulnerable, both to public persecution and to the attacks of Greyback. Though we have ensured he does not go after the only werewolf cub we have in our side, he will attack mercilessly, to avenge his daughter's disappearance. Lupin had managed to list down several subtle things in a journal he had been compiling over his years in exile. The alpha learns about the birth of the new cub through the smell of its blood…"

"We did all that we could in that short time, for the rest we would have to rely on the Grimms."

"I wish I knew of a way to communicate with Claysmith. I am not in favour of sending owls, though there are things I would like to get delivered to him at the earliest."

"That can be arranged."

"How?"

"Goblins. But I am still working on it. Though this much is clear, they are on our side in this war."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh! Snape, those shrewd money minders might sparsely tolerate us, but werewolves they hate with every bit of their blood. There has been too much bloodshed on that account alone. And they too are working with the same goal we have in mind."

"They have means and ways…?" Snape had sat straighter, his back taunt, his senses alert, "Will…will they share, are they agreeing on those terms?"

"They are waiting for Minerva to revive and take up her duties as the leader of the Order. They might have had grievances against Albus, but she has earned their respect in some manner it so seems."

"I see."

"How is Hermione?"

"Why do you ask?"

Tsking, the minister had supplied, "Because, we need her on the job, both of you are the most prolific researchers, though these days Longbottom and Blaise are surprising us as well."

"Are you heading for Longbottom's cottage?"

When the Minister had arched his brow at that, Snape had snarled back and had supplied, "I am yet to approach her on this topic."

"Very well, I will be meeting Longbottom, and I would like to invite you to come along with me. His mannerisms are disquieting. I have watched him at the ministry today, and it was like I hardly knew him ever. He is nothing like Frank and Alice."

"Understandable, Blaise was also of the same opinion. But you can rely on him."

"Are you certain?"

"I am most positive about it."

Kingsley Shacklebolt had chuckled at that, "Where is the dour potion master, Severus Snape and what have you done to him? Praising Longbottom of all the people! Minerva would flip on that!"

"That boy has simply grown out of his sniveling shell, can we go now?" irritated, the acting Headmaster of Hogwarts had got up determined to leave the freezing cold dilapidated house at once.

* * *

When the two seasoned wizards had safely apparated in front of the Longbottom Cottage, Severus had noticed, the front window glowing with a dull reflection, probably cast by a candle, lit up in the room. Someone was up and about. A lone figure had opened the door, and the voice of Neville Longbottom had greeted the guests, "I sensed the birch in my wards, thank you for coming down. I had beyond myself as to how to inform you of the progress."

Snape had entered the small living room and had been glad for once in his life to see the much familiar face of a smiling and buoyant Neville. On all those clandestine meetings with Frank and Alice's only son, a sense of guilt had gnawed at his conscience. Even after trying so hard, he had failed to save another student from clutches of darkness. Snape had never grown in a loving environment. And his teaching methods had to be stern to avoid accidents that could take lives. He had been downright nasty towards the boy, simply because of his nervous personality. He had never stopped chastising himself for his uncalled-for behavior. But he was glad, relieved and proud to learn that after all these years Longbottom had managed to give Granger a fitting competition. His potions, many of those still brewing inside the bowels of Hogwarts, were flawless. His knowledge of medicinal plants and their implementation of muggle science and their innovative inclusion in enhancing the potency of their magical counterparts- impressive.

He had himself dropped that news in front of a hospital bed-confined Minerva McGonagall, and the old woman had sputtered her tea disgracefully, "Don't you ever do that again! Surprise me, Neville you say, that is...never in my life I could imagine this, you calling him at par with Hermione," he had missed being chastised so fondly by her.

The young host was still clad in what would be extremely worn-out pajamas, and a spare pillow over the living couch had not escaped Snape hovering eyes. They were quietly led into the cottage, through a dim-lit corridor, and the young man had stopped in front of a closed door. In a hushed tone, he had warned them, "I needed to keep her locked in, least she behaved abnormally. The experiment has worked as expected Professor, but Mrs. Longbottom, is yet to come out of her unconscious state. So, be very quiet."

Conjuring a hovering candle, the young man had impressed Snape yet again, in his capacity to do nonverbal magic. He had managed to pick up several other underlying smells. The boy must have created a personal greenhouse of his own.

The room was small but a decent one, given the fact that it belonged to a teenage boy most of the time, who otherwise had been living in a boarding school. There in the far end of the small space, right next to the window, through which the nearly full moon was still shining in a soft hue, was a single bed, over which a young woman was asleep. Her shoulders were bare. Severus had been awestruck at the glowing marks tracing her collarbone and neck.

Looking over the surprise the two guests had been mirroring Neville had walked up next to a sleeping Pansy. "The Beast had left his marks all over her, scratches, idle scratches but deep enough…I had seen him do that with my very eyes. I am…Am glad...I could help her, though."

Severus had recalled Fawkes's innuendo riddled observations. He could not help himself but ask, "The binding spell, is it in place?"

By then they had all gathered in the living room, and Longbottom had once again placed the locking and silencing spell over the bedroom door. Offering them a tumbler of firewhiskey each, he had sat on a drawn-out stool. The practiced eyes of the professor had noticed his blush.

"Mr. Longbottom please save those basics of human coupling for your own musing, I am only concerned about how you have deciphered the magical discipline at work."

Schacklebolt had tried hard not to chuckle aloud, but a glare from the potion master had helped him to restrict it with only a passing smirk.

"I…I could hear her thoughts, right after the initiation of the binding spell. She had so depressed. Each time I touched…I filled ripples of her magic trying to grab hold of mine. It was difficult to watch Blaise talk to her. And it was difficult to watch her in pain. Right before the whole thing I had suffered from a mild episode of the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. I did ingest your potion professor, but you know, the seizures are still there and only ease out after a handful of hours. By then one is too tired to move about. Though this time, things were different…I really can't put it in words."

"Still, try…"

"It felt like someone was ripping away my senses, the ones bordering on pain and suffering were gradually getting diluted, they were there but…I don't feel them banging against my mind. I feel better, happy to be empty of the heavyweight. And I could feel her emotions bare and openly displayed, I…Sir, don't mind me asking this, how starved of love are the students of your house?"

Severus had simply bowed his head, hiding his ravaging emotions behind his curtain of black hair. Scacklebolt has replied on his behalf, "The pureblood families in most cases, have a stern way of distancing their children, of course with the exclusion of the Weasleys, the Potters, and even your own family. "

Still staring at Severus, Neville had whispered, his eyes tearing up in shame and buried humiliation, "She knows, I couldn't manage to keep her away from all that I had to undergo in the hands of Carrows. But then she did something extraordinary. She had shattered those images and, in their place, she went on implanting newer ones…I hope you can understand what I am trying to say, Sir?"

Looking up, Severus had given him a rare but genuine smile and had nodded back, "That is a start…hold on to it."

Smiling back with a boyish grin Neville had mused, "Oh, I intend to, I very much intend to, would you teach me, sir, the way to store memories?"


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: The usual disclaimer stays in place, I owe nothing but my AU and OC.

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Chapter 19

Even sitting in front of two of the formidable wizards of Great Britain, Neville Longbottom could not forget how it had felt to hold Pansy in his arms. True he had been rough with her before that. True he had taken great care to ease aware the burn marks on her palms, but Longbottom had felt the pull at his heartstrings each time he had managed to look into her eyes, he had felt the tremors of his awaking passions each time he had managed to hold her hand or touch her.

He had dared to do things for the first time in his life. Simple things, like ghosting his lips over her temple, feeling her wet hair pass through his fingers, squeezing her prone body in his embrace, just to remember those blissful feelings he had the fortune to enjoy for the first time. So, this was what married men, fiancés, go back home to? No, he would not compare her to someone from the Knockturn Alley. She was his water nymph. Sigh high and wasted by his wife's rough ministrations, he had brushed his fingers over those glowing marks, sitting up a bit, he had run his digits all over those scars, now glistening with a white hue. He would not sully her by getting excited about her body. He would rather wait for her heart to open up and accept him…Though right now, it was just a dream, and he has a practiced optimist.

He would never dare to ask, was she this passionate about life or was the lupine threats making her act likewise? Was he actually complaining, hell no? If she would only have him, he was already dead. A rueful smile had danced over his lips. And he had to bend down to nuzzle her neck. She smelled of pansies. His own addition to each individual cake of the freezing temperature-activated concoction. He had planted a revered kiss on her pulse point and had grinned." If this feels like falling in love, I don't wish to sober up?" He had burst into a hearty laugh, that had rung through the small place. Blaise's urgent voice had brought him back to reality. His wife needed rest but before that…

He had blushed despite everything. He had failed to recall, who had shredded her tunic into pieces! Holding her tight for some more time, registering her curves, her flesh, her hair, her breath, and every little thing that gave Pansy her identity, Neville had reluctantly got up from the tub, cradling her unconscious body in her strong arms. Propping her up against the wall with one arm. He had picked up the discarded blanket and had wrapped her in it. Then, he managed to throw the robe around him.

With a practiced wave of his hand, he had opened the door. Blaise Zabini had been standing, both the wands ready in his hand, "You both went suddenly quiet, I thought I thought…by merlin's beard! What did you do to her?"

He had walked up to the husband and had dug his wand at his throat, "What did you do, I trusted you!"

Neville had smiled and when had laughed at the expense of the agitated Slytherin," If only you would allow us to walk back to the bedroom, I will show you," but Blaise had been flicking his eyes on Pansy time and again, "Show me what, Show it to me now."

Out of patience, Longbottom had barked, "Don't try me, she is fine, alive, just exhausted and sleeping, watch her breathing for Merlin's sake!"

Dumbfounded, the Italian had peered at his friend and bobbing his head, blinking his tears away, he had stepped aside to let the couple pass. Neville had placed Pansy on the bed and had righted the blanket over her, leaving her shoulders bare for Blaise to see the drastic changes. Gripping the bed frame, the man had flopped at the foot of the bed, relief, and gratitude prominent on his face. "She is healed, will she…?"

"NO, she was never going to turn in the first place, and I will make sure, she sees her qualities over her physical appearances."

Grabbing hold of Longbottom's two hands, Blaise had pulled at them, questioning,"Tell me the truth, for once, tell me, why did you do this, we, we could never bring ourselves to trust anyone else, we acted like bastards, with each and everybody, then, why did you take such measures to save her, tell me, I don't accept the bullshit, "woman's honor"!"

"My wife's honor is mine to keep, Zabini. We cannot waste any more time, you need to go back, go ahead and sit down in the living room, I will join you in a bit."

Blaise had left with an identical glass box tucked under his robes. Neville had kept in mind how fascinated Lavender was of the many perfumes, she would like to buy for herself. She would chatter about it in the common room, at the Gryffindor table at the Great Hall, unaware Neville would hear everything. Perfumes were not what he was interested in, he had been attracted to the sources- plants and flowers.

"Longbottom?"

"Huh, oh, Yah, I..I am sorry,…I…"

Chuckling, Shacklebolt had thumped the young man's back, "I know what it is like to be a newly married man!"

"UGH, not that, I was actually thinking about the werewolf."

Snape had arched a brow and had smirked, raffling the man a bit more, he had drawled, "So the werewolf made you blush like a girl!"

"Seriously, not now, please, what I am trying to say is that I did feel his lingering presence in her mind, before I… I mean it is like there is an evil presence marking his territory and then you go and simply shiver the link, no matter how painful it becomes. Professor, I had heard from Harry how painful it had been when the link between Dark Lord and him got activated, it is nearly something like that…"

Mauling over this new information, Snape had tentatively added, "You mean to say, he has a way of communicating with whosoever he has marked?"

"That would be my best guess, I could not explain it to Blaise, I mean, I was too overwhelmed, but Blaise would need to be prepared. I am suspicious that Greyback will get a wind… we must be prepared, and watch out.

And Theadora was his own blood, will he try to reach out to her in some way. Their bond would be the strongest. He had mumbled his concern, "We need to alert the others". If Neville had worked out who these others were, he had chosen to keep quiet about it and pretend he had never heard it in the first place.

A shadow had appeared over the Minister's otherwise nonchalant face, "I am wondering how will we manage to control Lavender, with not a werewolf around." Severus had missed having Lupin around. Neville had sighed," Blaise had informed me, even Bill would be away in the hospital for a while."

Kingsley had decided to turn the discussion towards positivity, like any shrewd politician he had impressed, "As far as Minerva is certain, this marriage binding spell will not only protect, bring the couple closer but also prevent them from getting harmed. The closer they grow they will be forming a magical force strong enough to fight a battle. But Neville had questioned him unguarded optimism, "How many do you think are ready, most of them are walking around each other over eggshells."

Kingsley had given him a curious look, Severus Smirks, "I can vouch for Draco, he is smitten by the Weasley girl, he will bend the world to protect her…"

Neville blurts out, "So will I for Pansy."

Kingsley adds, "I am certain of Blaise, but what bothers me, it cannot be helped if Lavender turns into one tonight."

Severus pensively added, "She will, but I am certain Blaise will use that good head of his to figure things out."

"But how…he will not have the chance to both seal the bond, stop the initiation of Greyback connection with Lavender through the Lupine tendencies he has induced in her and then extract himself out of the room in time before the werewolf form of Lavender shreds him to pieces."

"Blaise is an animagus. It truly hurts to admit that he was quite taken in by the Marauders. He has been practicing it ever since, though he had asked Minerva and me to keep it under the wraps."

"I always wondered how come the boy had his way into Minerva's heart, I have often found both deep in conversation in her hospital room. Given the previous circumstances, finding the two of them talking like mentor and apprentice was odd."

Neville had given vent to his concern, "Sir, I know, Hermione is a strong witch, but with both Harry and Ron gone, I can't help myself but worry about her."

"Longbottom, my wife is my business, I would prefer you don't neglect Mrs. Longbottom instead."

"I won't!"

Neither would I." his voice had rung with a sense of finally that was duly noted by the young man, "Kingsley, I would wish to oversee Blaise and Lavender's ceremony, since Greyback will surely try to find a way to stop the proceedings."

"It can be arranged, I was too apprehensive to be alone, I don't think I would really manage to extract Blaise from the bunker…"

Neville was interested, "Bunker?"

"Yes, I can only mention this once, I inherited this property from Muggle aristocrats, who thought ahead of them that had built underground bunkers below their property to save themselves during air raids and enemy invasions."

We better leave, Neville…the idea of soap cakes was truly innovative…" finding the younger man actually gaping at him, he had added, "and don't get carried away with a drop of approval coming from me we have a long way to go…"

Before seeing them off, Neville couldn't help himself better ask the lingering question that had been knocking him since he had heard Blaise could transform himself, "Sir, What is Blaise's animagus?"

Severus had given him a scrutinizing look and after a while, he drawled, "A direwolf."

* * *

Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, Lavender Brown had three things constant in her life- nightmares about Fenrir Greyback, the memory of pain, soul tearing pain that the healers had at least managed to keep her away from through heavy doses of pain-numbing potions and Blaise Zabini. Every single time she had opened her eyes, she had seen him leaning over and greeting her with a smile. And brush of his lips on her knuckles, which he had been holding within his larger palms, stroking his thumb over hers.

How often had she dreamt of this? Someone to greet her each time she would open her eyes. Someone to show her affection, tell her stories of hope and of happiness through their placid eyes. She knew he had spent his time crying while she was sleeping, but to her, he never mentioned a word or showed a sign of it. It had been a week after the incident when she had finally managed to walk on her own. And the first thing she had done was to go to the adjoining bathroom of her secluded hospital room. She had left a sleeping Zabini next to her bed, prying her arm free from his grasp. His cologne was the only cheerful fragrance amidst the horrible bleach stench of the ward.

The small walk had tired her limbs, closing the door she had bucked down on her knees, under the hospital gown, she had found layers of white gauge wrapped around her, and the mirror above the washbasin had figuratively, nailed the slang on her forehead, "Mummy you look like a muggle mummy, but don't worry, you got to get used to it," too cheerfully. She had screamed her lungs out. Crawling up to the basin, she had tried to punch it. But the moment her fist had touched the surface of the talking mirror, a throbbing pain had rocketed through her body. Instantly she had fallen down on the floor, curling into a ball, crying aloud.

Zabini, disheveled, hardly sane, had busted open the closed door, and had gathered her in his arms. Rocking her softly, he had asked," What is it, love?" She had wailed into his chest and had complained like a traumatized child, "the mirror called me muggle mummy. I know what it means...Do I look that horrid...I look horrid" The man had growled and snarled like a beast, helping her stand up, he had walked up to the innocent-looking magical mirror. Still holding her tight, he had punched the culprit again and again, until it was reduced to several broken pieces of glass. Those stray pieces that had broken free from the frame and had fallen on the bathroom floor; he had stomped on them with vengeance. Muttering all the while, "How dare you? How dare you speak to her like that? She is beautiful, she is beautiful, to me, she is beautiful, did you hear that, beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking, exquisite! I will kill that mutt with my bare hands, I will crush his ribs! I will wrench his jaws apart! How dare you!" Hugging her tight, he had then cried with her in the destroyed bathroom," Beautiful, you are beautiful, did you hear me, Lav, you are beautiful! "

"Don't mock me, please, I know how horrid I must look!" her defeated voice had knocked his breath out. Cupping her face in his trembling hands he had kissed every inch of it, mumbling in between like a drunk man, "Beautiful, angelic, pure, love, heavenly, you are all this, please! Please, trust me, believe me, love." Unable to process his reaction, unable to accept his caress, she had pushed him away and had staggered out of the bathroom. He had noticed Shacklebolt and the healers watching them from the doorway, and the Minister looked just as shaken as he was. But he gave a damn to what the world was thinking of him. He would not let Lavender Brown think any less of herself. She had been the brightest flower in his life. And he would see to it that she knows it, believes and thrives on it.

It was only recently; Blaise had learnt of his connection with the Shacklebolt family. The Dark Lord had killed his mother and her fiancé since Blaise had refused to join his rank. He had inevitably inherited a huge fortune that spread across the continent. They had stakes in every industry, magic and muggle... Yet the war had taught him fortune alone could never rival evil power, one required a concrete set of principles to construct one's life around. And, Minister Shacklebolt had been that pillar he had been relying on since then. So, when the older man had asked him, whether, in order to save Lavender, would he consider marrying her? Blaise had looked into the man's eyes and had replied firmly, "I will if she agrees."

Zabini had been surprising Lavender ever since the bathroom incident. As if, he did n't mind her rejecting his display of affection. Apart from bringing her exotic bunch of flowers, he had got her dress robes, and hair ties. She had never believed young boys to take notice of these things but maybe Zabini was made of a different metal. His constant presence had irritated her and at times, she would truly miss him, especially when he would make a healer sit in his place to watch over her. She missed Parvati and Ron. Though the ginger-head had ditched her, she still remembered hanging on his arms, pecking his cheek. Ron would sometimes play with her hair, but he would never do this! Zabini would sit near her head, and comb her hair, talking about how he loved doing it for his mother. She had asked innocently," Where is she? She must be missing you."

"I don't know, I don't think so."

She had softly said, "You can't hang around always, what will your friends say? They will make fun of you, mirror smasher."

He had bent over her face upside down and had taken the liberty to kiss her forehead. Speaking against her temple he had uttered, "Mirror smasher, good name, I will smash anything and everything that says otherwise!"

"Says what otherwise, I...I am ugly, that is the truth..."

"No, you are beautiful, because in here, "hovering his index finger over her breastbone he had continued, "lies your beauty."

* * *

When Kingsley Shacklebolt had come to meet her in private, she had worn the deep burgundy dress that Zabini had bought for her. It was thoughtful of him to bring along matching veils, embroidered with periwinkle flowers. It was soft against the skin and breezy enough. She had smiled at the touch of it. She had tilted her head up, just to feel the veil touch her face, and she had giggled, it was ticklish and it had been liberating.

In his matter of fact voice, the large man had said, "Miss Brown, since you have been a part of Dumbledore's Army, you have seen and done a lot of things you would not have imagined doing in your lifetime. I am sorry, being an adult, I could not stir you all away from the gruesomeness of the war."

If the man in front of her could see her face, he would have noticed she had been biting her lips, too hard. She had started tasting blood. He had continued, "Now, a section of the Magical creatures is threatening to kill us all, therefore the ministry has passed a stringent law, and perhaps the only alternative available to us to save ourselves from all this."

In a quivering voice she had enquired, "What law?"

Kingsley had braced himself for the worst, this girl was famous for her hysterics. "The magical marriage laws. And before you come to the wrong conclusion, I would like to inform you that Mr. Blaise Zabini has been selected as your husband."

She had watched the minister of magic staring at her and had understood, this was not only an explanation, but it was also the order, but this also was not awaiting for her consent it was a declaration made to her, this was not a celebration, this was a necessity, she was not safe, and this was the only thing they could give her as a sort of safe haven.

After a length of quiet musing, she had replied, "I always dreamt of marrying Ron Weasley, I would keep these journals with cut-outs from Witch Magazines, of wedding dresses, of tiaras, of gowns, of magical wedding halls and …" Laughing at her stupidity, she had cried into her palms. She knew Ron was dead. She knew Greyback would have her, either today or in the future, she could hear his voice in her head every day. It was then she had realized, Blaise Zabini would actually love her, just the way she had imagined for all these years. She had cleared her throat, rubbed off those girlie tears from her eyes, and had touched the Minister's knuckles," Tell him I thanked him, and thank you, Sir, for helping me out, but I have one condition."

Kingsley had gingerly held the girl's trembling fingers in his large palm, giving it a soft squeeze, he had urged, "Tell me, Miss Brown, I will try to make it happen."

"I want a close door ceremony, and I want only a candle lit in the room. And if it can be possible for you to officiate the ceremony?"

* * *

A/N: Thoughts please, not a pair you would consider, but please give it a chance to blossom.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I am responsible only for my OC and AU, the rest are JKR's babies.

* * *

Chapter 20

Much to Severus Snape's surprise, Kingsley Shacklebolt had side along apparated them into a deserted shipbuilding yard. He could hear the water running somewhere nearby and the moon shining above his head, through a massive hole in the ceiling above.

"Kingsley…"

"Just give me a moment Severus…just some time."

"Okay…"

Having dealt with pressure and successive turns of events throughout his life, Severus could understand why the newly appointed Minister had brought them here of all places. In the last few days, this giant man had not only taken up the responsibilities of a dismal government, had not only sanctioned the funeral ceremonies of a long list of wizards and witches but had also dealt with personal loss and grief. The war had killed his daughter and had injured his wife. The latter of both always kept their distance from the press. But being Dumbledore's man Kingsley would often slip a word of his loving family. Amanda Shacklebolt's body could not be retrieved. And Cynthia was still in a comatose state at St. Mungo's. The mother had lost both of her legs and she would be wheelchair-bound for the rest of her life.

After a while the dark man had brought a flask out of his robes, uncorking it, he had taken a long swig. Severus's keen senses could make out the smell of firewhiskey.

"Won't you talk me out of it? Cynthia would."

"I assure you Madam Shacklebolt would chastise you when she is back home, I don't find pleasure in playing a surrogate." To add an extra effect, Snape had twisted his lips to make his displeasure clear.

"I couldn't tell her about Amanda, but she knew, and she said, pointing at the badge of the Minister of Magic, 'Darling we might have lost our own and we will grieve and mourn her, but you need to keep it together for all those hundreds of children looking up to you for guidance.' And throughout the last few days I am watching these kids wearing clothes that would only fit adults, wearing shoes two sizes up, and stumbling to play the role of grown-ups. We have failed this generation, Snape, we have failed them, all of us, Albus, Minerva, you and me…"

'No, we haven't. Just that while we were busy looking around and taking the count of the carnage left by this bloody war that refuses to stop, these kids took things up in their arms to fix them, in the best way they could, by accepting adulthood early on. These children are as traumatized, as you and I are, I see the fear, the mistrust, the tendencies to break under pressure, but they are keeping it together. And we must see to it, that when they break, they have someone to fix them together right beside them."

"Do you truly believe this magical binding spell will work in the coming days, I don't think Greyback will hide away forever…"

"I will believe in it because that is all we can do for now."

"A pessimist like you, talking about optimism, Madam Snape's shadow is working."

"Don't play with words, you look better, shouldn't we be already with the last couple who got married today."

"Yes, If Neville knocked the wind out of me, Blaise Zabini has grown a decade in these last few days."

"Zabini was always the mature one in his class. He was quiet, watchful, obedient and a man of strong principles. Never once, did I have to discipline him! Even as a Slytherin, I have watched him subtly extend help to all the other houses, and his affection for Miss Brown is not a new one."

"You knew about it…!"

"I do indeed, the boy has been fancying her through the years but was clever enough never to act on it, given the circumstances. He had always made sure the Gryffindor was never left alone, seeing to it that she was back to her dorm in time…and many such clandestine efforts did he put up…"

"Quite calculative and decisive."

"Always, the level headed one in that group led by Malfoy could have made a good perfect and head boy…but I am sure, if in ideal circumstances, would he be offered those two posts, the boy would have refused them politely… how else do you think that young man could say no to the Dark Lord's proposal…!"

"I was stunned by his reply to the marriage proposal…"

"Prepare yourself, Kingsley, these kids will keep all of us on our toes."

Straightening himself, Shacklebolt had grabbed onto Severus's Sleeves and had nodded. A moment later the shipyard was back to its original state of haunting emptiness.

* * *

Blaise Zabini had been standing in a small room while Kingsley was meeting with Lavender, in plain words making her agree to marry the Italian. Within his fingers, he had held a rare antique ring. He had been intently watching the afternoon sun glinting against its agate stone. It was his father's wedding present to his mother. Contrary to the fact that many would frown upon his decision to give this particular heirloom to Lavender, Blaise believed in turning any bad omen to good ones through one's own actions. Her mother had failed to keep even one marriage last long enough. But he would see to it, that he would live a happy life with Lavender, at least he would give in his very best. He had already promised himself to protect her when she had nursed him back to health while all of them were camping in the Room of Requirement. He had added the vow to guard her like her knight when he had rescued her from Greyback. And in all these nerve-wracking days, sitting beside her hospital bed, being strong for the both of them, he had vowed to tangle his fate with hers, just to belong somewhere in this lost and bleak world.

Brown. Did he ever imagine one fine day, he would have fallen for this flower girl? Yes, what else would he call her? In those early days, he was certain this thing he felt in his heart was an infatuation. Her laughter would soothe his dry soul, her giggles, and scheming whispers would amuse him endlessly. He would often find himself sitting behind her in several of the classes, watching her light caramel hair swishing in the wind, or her strawberry lips moving as she would bend over her parchment trying to take down the class notes. It was her ordinary disposition, her instant reactions to her surroundings, her endless desire to see the world in bright colours, that had hooked the boy who would only get to stare at shades of darkness. Her disgust with all-knowing Granger had made him laugh in the confines of his four-poster bed. And her growing interest in Ron Weasley had churned a rare sense of jealousy in the depths of his heart. But he had dared not to act on any of those impulses.

Putting away the ring in one of his deep pockets, sending a small note to Kingsley to wait if possible, he had gone to meet Neville. He had to learn first hand the procedure because soon after they would get married, he had to enact the same thing, Neville was going to attempt for the first time. He had also shared several common beliefs he had found Granger professing. "Read, lesson, practice, anything everything" and he had added his own motto next to it, "you never know which will save your arse at the nick of time." It was the day of Full Moon. Both of them just had hours before nightfall, if they were not married soon and seal the bond sooner enough, she would surely turn into a werewolf, an intended mate marked thoroughly by Greyback, and they would incur a heavy loss. Professor Lupin had warned them, "Hide, and don't let the alpha get anyone, wizard or witch, not a single one!"

To say that he had been both delighted and relieved, at Pansy's hideous scars getting replaced by lightly glowing lines was an understatement. If he had not spent too much of him childhood with consummate Slytherins who were brought up with strict notions on the minimal display of emotions, he would have tackled Longbottom into a bear hug, he would have hopped around like a march hare or he would have taken a broom ride around the earth! He could not forget Lavender's cry, her apathy and her defeated voice. Looks mattered to any girl who embraces her womanhood with decisive strides," his mother would often tell him, and he had found Brown doing the same thing. The girls of his house were all adhering to one set of strict regimes, that made them act, look and behave like manufactured dolls. But Brown was unique, much like Lovegood, but while the latter acted too barmy for his taste, Brown displayed all the nuances Blaise Zabini secretly wanted his wife to have.

When he had returned, he had found a note from Kingsley that only said, "She agreed and thanked you, but insisted on one candle lit, one officiator overseeing the closed-door ceremony." Zabini had barked out a hearty laughter. Shacklebolt could try as hard as possible to act like a family, but how could one peel away the diplomat, bureaucrat out of the family man. Patting over his breast pocket, where he had kept the antique ring of his mother, Blaise had reverently whispered, "Mum, your stallion is getting married to his flowery perfume girl." With the other, he had fiddled with the minimized glass box that held two sets of moonshine potion cakes, a variant of the famous Wolfsbane potion, both a wedding gift and a promising aid provided by Neville Longbottom, to seal his future with his werewolf wife.

* * *

The one thing Lavender Brown had dreaded the most was to see her scars with her own eyes. The pain had felt real. Greyback, gut-churning voice still murmuring lewd words sounded real, but she didn't wish to see her scars. She needed at least one thing to hold onto, to make this entire mishap seem a horrible nightmare, that was adamant to stay and not allow her to wake up. Shacklebolt had arranged for everything. They would get married in her hospital room, the blinds would be shut, the scorns turned down and a single candle would burn throughout the ceremony.

When the assistant healer had brought in her wedding tunic, she had truly been at a loss. How on earth was she going to wear it, those dress robes Zabini had bought, had helped her hide her bandaged body, but this shimmering excuse of a dress would reveal all her flaws, her hideous carved-out body to the world! She had been hysteric, throwing herself over her bed she had wailed at her miserable Fate. He had appeared beside her in no time and had held her trembling body close. He had soothed away her ebbing fear, and he had placed his cravat over her tearful eyes, saying, "You don't need to always see things, you can feel and smell them, they would equally fascinate you."

And Blaise Zabini was correct, his cravat had smelt of him, and of his cologne that she had been familiar with. Nothing fruity, but there was a hint of wildflower, and of deer musk, and of lemongrass and sandalwood! How on earth could one mix all of that together?

"All done," the assistant healer had chirped close to her ears. "Done, done what?". Chuckling, the woman next to her, had tilted her chin up, applying perhaps a lipstick that tasted like fresh strawberries, "Our bride is all ready for the wedding. Touching herself, she had realized that the other was right, she was wearing the tunic that bunched near her bodice and then floated like waves close to her feet. She had heard the door close and open once again. Two pairs of footsteps. Then the world around had gone dark. But for a tiny light flickering ahead of her. She had felt him stand behind her, touch her neck softly, and then the cravat was gone. But his scent was still around, so was his hand ghosting over the small of her back, guiding her close to the single table over which a stone basin, a bunch of official parchments and a single candle was burning lazily. Beyond the table Kingsley Shacklebolt stood regal and sure of himself.

Half an hour later, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mr. And Mrs. Zabini had left St. Mungo's after the newly married couple had met Mrs. Shacklebolt and had got her warm blessings. The minister's wife had been finally responding to the potions and her nerve ends were gradually showing signs of healing, thus the healer had decided to keep her conscious from now on.

The three had side-along apparated into a marshy land with one highway ripping it into two halves. The stench of the pungent saltwater had hit her nose, and she had buried her veiled face at the crook of her husband's neck. Wary of their surroundings, the three had made their way through a trapdoor at the edge of an uncharacteristically large willow tree. Just like in Hogwarts, this one had a tunnel below and an hour later, they had arrived at the other end of it. Shacklebolt had turned to both of them and had smiled good-naturedly, "Welcome to caisleán crochta- or the Hanging castle." He had tapped at the seemingly empty wall and Gaelic letters had appeared over them, only to disappear and the wall had parted like a curtain, revealing an ancient corridor beyond it.

Lavender had noticed Blaise had remained nonchalant to the whole marvel that lay before him. As if sensing her perusal, he had brushed his lips over her ear and had whispered endearingly, "I had to check the place for myself before bringing my lovely wife here, of course, Love I know every nook and corner of this place.

Kingsley had deliberately walked a couple of steps ahead of them. He had been newly married once in his lifetime! Opening a door, he had ushered the bride in," Mrs. Zabini, we need to prepare for the next part of the ceremony, I would urge you to remain in this quarter till that extent. And since I happen to be a distant uncle to Blaise, I would request you to call me Kingsley from henceforth, when we are at a family setting." Motioning towards the many boxes arranged around the master bedroom, he had cleared his throat, feeling self-conscious, "Um, my wife had literally yelled at me for not arranging a suitable wedding for the both of you, and had made me buy some of the most necessary things a newly married couple might require. I confess I might know how to handle ministry business, but I am a loser at running a household. If you find something unsuitable, I pray, you would forgive me."

Zabini had laughed at the expense of the proud Minister mumbling like a guilty brat. "Honestly, I am glad, there is no beetle around," he had jested. Lavender had simply walked up to the older man and had kissed his cheek. Patting his sleeves, she had offered, "Can I ever thank you enough, I keep wondering that…"

The two men had left her there and had closed the door, she had heard the latch then had felt the sizzle of several kinds of locking spells and wards over the door. She had sat on the floor, staring at the afternoon sun, happily peeping inside from the window, for long can they keep the monster away, she could hear his ragging breath in her mind, he was coming!

The men had been away for a whole day, she had slept through it mostly, and had been woken up by a soft-spoken house-elf, Erina, during mealtimes. Blaise had come in once and had dropped a kiss over her forehead, one of his favorite habits, and had mentioned, "I would be away for some more hours, we…we have figured out a way to keep Greyback away, and I have a surprise for you a good one I promise." Tilting her face up, he had flipped open the veil and had kissed her on her lips, taking his time, to touch and feel her lips, taking his time to make love with her dazed tongue that had decided to dance at his cue. Breathlessly he had rested his head over her heaving one, "Sweet Lav, don't worry, this castle is unplottable, no one apart from Shacklebolt and Snape knows of its location. Snape because, if there is anyone in the world as powerful as Potter and Dumbledore, it is him and of course his wife."

Bending down he had kissed her again and this time, he had finished it with small pecks, leaving lavender, holding on to his shoulders to find some balance in order to keep standing. He had relished her arms clinging on to him like ivy," I am a passionate man, and I don't like doing things halfway. I will fight for you till the last drop of my blood, till the last ounce of my magic. I will avenge your pain, Greyback will pay for every tear you've cried on his account. All I ask from you is to trust me, and trust me alone. Open your heart your soul and your body to me, for just for you, I have handed each and every bit of those over to you, the moment I have carried you away from Hogwarts." And with that he had left her, locking her door, once again with several protective spells.

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A/N: The next two chapters are draining me, but I am nearly done with them if you like this drop a word.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: AU and OC are my brainchildren, if the rest are rowdy take it up with JKR.

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Chapter 21

The dawn had come, and the sky had turned a brilliant yellow from its purple predecessor. She had woken up several times throughout the night in bitter fragments of her nightmare making her bones turn cold. And each time she had found Elina propped up on her bed, her bony hands drawing soothing circles on Lavender's back. The elf had helped her with her medicines. And had helped her enjoy a long bath. She had noticed then apart from these two souls there were many others present. Ghosts but not of men and women. Of animals. Wild animals. Most mostly belonging to huge beasts.

When Blaise had returned shortly after daybreak, he had insisted on having their breakfast in her room. Elina had transfigured a stool and had led a rather large breakfast spread for the couple. This would have been the first meal the both were sharing in this quiet castle. She could hear seagulls, she could hear the ocean waves, but she could only see marshy bogs around. Curious, she had asked her new husband, "Where are we?"

Lowering his spoon, after adding a single helping of sugar to his coffee, the Italian had whispered remorsefully, "I can't let you know that."

"Oh! Can you hear him too?"

"Yes, but after tonight we don't need to worry, NO, don't think about it, he will get wind of it as well."

"This place is filled with ghosts; I think all of them are watching me."

"Yes, they are, they serve the house of yster boeie- it is an African word. It means iron shackles. This expression was used by the Romans. This was once under the Romans' rule, and they had captured slaves and animals from Africa. Those people and animals were kept here, tortured and killed if they refused to listen to the masters. Kingsley and I, we are related through the tribe, who were also wizards, but of African origin. Some called them shapeshifters. But they did have a name of their own. "klou van vormverwisselaar" or "the Claw of Shapeshifter". Even the atlas bears were our cousins. You will see several of their spirits, in the form of bears, wolves, elephants and even big apes. When our ancestors would know they were dying they would change into their animal forms. So that their spirit remains behind and protects their own people. I was not aware of any of it until I started reading about Animagus."

Sipping his coffee, he had continued," My branch of ancestors was instead taken to the capital of Rome, where they had managed to prove their worth as soldiers and at making exotic wines and perfumes. But above all, they were good informants and spies. Throughout the centuries, we had survived. I found out that my surname is an Arabian word for vow or oath. Interesting, isn't it? I had often thought about how come even after getting sorted in Slytherin, I had distinct characteristics that made me akin to all the other houses. I could think ahead, I could see and preserve better than many around."

"Are you the last one of them?"

"No, there are several like me, but most of them have spread around the world. I was lucky. Even my father had to duel against the other claimants of the huge property that the Zabini family had piled out through the centuries. He had to defeat all of them in his animal form, which he did. With the Dark Lord appearing in the scene, several wizards and witches left the continent. They had seen and done too much bloodshed for their lifetime. I hope I can explain to you from where my reluctance to join any of the sides came in the first place."

"But then you came to us…"

"Yes, I did, to avenge my mother's murder."

"I heard I am sorry."

"Lavender, I would like to confess something today, while all this is still new, "taking her hand in his own, he had placed the agate ring of his mother's over her ring finger but had stopped her from reacting on it, "I have looked out for you for a long time. I can't really remember when I fell in love with you. I am not Draco or Potter, or Weasley. But if I give my word, I intend to keep it from beyond the grave. Just like all these ghosts you see around us. Today when we seal this bond, these will guard this place like soldiers. And I will guard you against that mutt." He had spat at the last word, and Lavender had realized she had been crying. Zabini was not kneeling in front of her, neither was he giving her exquisite floral arrangements, nor did they have a grand wedding with all the magical society in attendance, nor did their pictures and their names get flashed across the Daily Prophet. But this declaration of love had made her glow, feel giddy, feel faint, feel euphoric. She could only say two words in reply, "Thank you."

"I wanted to discuss something else as well?"

"What?"

"The Ministry wants us to contribute to rebuilding the magical society. And they are asking all of us to pick up a job and help the magical society benefit out of it. Like suppose Longbottom is good with magical plants, so he has selected to set up a greenhouse and trade-in potion ingredients, and also grow exotic plants in future. Draco I am sure will opt for jewelry making, he had a special interest in it, Snape will always opt for potions, I think both Neville and Snape are already working together. Granger got married to Snape, and she can opt for…I am sorry, I forgot you don't like her."

"I had my reasons, but since the reason is no more around, I might as well consider her in a new light…I really don't know what to think of all this Blaise, how much time do I have anyway?"

The desolation in her voice was not lost to the young man, he had grabbed her hand from across the table and had given it a firm squeeze,"I apologize, why don't we talk about this in a couple of days' time?"

His smiling face had melted her heart, but the fear of uncertainty had still been there. "I know I will become a monster tonight, I can feel it coming, I can hear his voice in my head, what if, what if I hurt you, turn you, kill.."

"Shush! Enough! Trust me, I will handle things…"

"How, how can you, you don't know, I have heard the Golden Trio speak of their experiences, I have heard them talk about professor Lupin turning into a werewolf in front of their eyes, and, and he could not recognize any of them, he would have attacked them if Sirius Black had not been around if Snape had not been there guarding them physically!" she didn't realize she had been yelling at the man, staring at her.

"Are you done?"

"Wiping her eyes, she had replied tersely, "Yes!"

Blaise had got up from his chair and had walked a couple of steps into the room. He had shrugged off his robes, and his cloak. Giving her a long look, he had said, "I would show you how I will be with you throughout your transformation, but before that, you will have to close your eyes and you need to remember this, "grabbing his cravat once again, he had tossed it at Lavender. Tentatively she had covered her eyes with it. And he had transformed into his animagus form, with the warning, "Don't say a word, don't think just, feel me, and remember the feeling."

* * *

After what felt like hours, Blaise had helped Lavender change into her ceremonial tunic, which Elina the house-elf had helped her remove previously. Just for her sake he made her tie his eyes for the time being. Lavender could never imagine someone would be this considerate to give importance to her emotions. She had found Blaise unveiled his character bit by bit in the most sensual way possible. The man fed on subtlety. He was hungry for affection and compassion. Kingsley had mentioned how he had lost his mother. Lavender had felt sorry, but then she had recalled what Blaise had told her previously. He did not consider his mother's spirit to miss him even. How unfortunate would that be?

Whenever he had kissed her after the binding ceremony in the dim-lit hospital room, he had just lifted the veil till the end of her nose and had kissed her softly. Leaving behind a promise of several things, her many romances were full of. The promise of togetherness, of love and affection. But along with it, she had felt the underlying wild beastly passion, the intensity to overpower, the urge to claim her as his mate. And ever since that tempering kiss that had left her lips scorched, the voice of Greyback had turned aggressive in her mind.

* * *

Kingsley had apparated Snape a number of times to mislead anyone trying to follow them. By the time they had apparated on the highway right in the middle of nowhere, it was almost dawn. The high tide was soon approaching. The ministry had grabbed Snape and had whispered the words, "Caisleán crochta- say it in your mind, Severus, say it!" The potion master had chanted the words and had heard several wild beasts calling in his mind. In dread, he had felt an uncanny magical presence in the air around him that had managed to wind its way with and had coursed through his vein. He had closed his obsidian eyes to decipher the new magic. But the minister had shaken him and had urged him to open his eyes," Open your eyes Snape, open them, tell me, can you see it, can you see it?"

Baffled at the urgency lacked in the otherwise calm and composed Minister of Magic, Severus had grown uncomfortable. He had snapped open his eyes and had yelled back, "I see it I see the…!" Shacklebolt had placed his large palm over the potion master's mouth and had shoved him inside a tunnel. Snape could barely notice that a sort of a tree was beside him…the morning mist had made most of the place invisible… He had heard the sound of water lapping the sooner he had got his bearings back. Confused he had peered at the other man.

"High tide, during high tide especially at dawn, when the mist is so close to the earth, nothing is visible beyond your hand…the water climbs up to a foot or more, submerging the trapdoor, surrounding the place, it is a natural barricade. My ancestors have placed several other magical wards, and many of them are even unheard of by some of the long lines of Pureblood families of Britain."

After an hour they both had managed to cross the magical wall that parted like a shimmering curtain, Snape had realized he was standing within a very ancient castle, but this one was older than many of the English Castles he had ever managed to visit. In awe, he had muttered," Who were your ancestors really, this place surely does not look like one build during the time man heard of 'bunker'?

Shacklebolt had led him through a different corridor, and very soon they were descending down ancient steps, that went round and round, till Shacklebolt had stopped in front of a tapestry handing right next to the fifth step from the lower ground. He had muttered a word and had asked for Snape's wand. Grudgingly the potion master had handed it over. The minister had touched the tapestry with the new wand, and Snape had felt the same uncanny magic sizzle at his nerve ends. Right across the lowest step a door had appeared. Handing back his wand, Shacklebolt had gestured Snape to stand in front of it. The door had opened as if sensing the presence of friends.

Blaise Zabini's voice had greeted them from within. "You can in time, I have nearly recreated the exact set up that Neville had asked of me…Oh, Good Morning Professor!"

"Good morning Mr. Zabini, to convey my regards to Mrs Zabini. And now tell me what have you been up to."

Blaise had grinned back," Neville had used the bathroom tub, a barrel of water, which he had spelled to replenish itself and had attached it to the pipelines…here I am going to use the sea water. The high tide will enable us to collect enough of it to fill this sunken bath area. And I have charmed the ceiling to act like a showerhead, just a bit larger than usual. Longbottom had asked me to use two cakes in the water-filled tub and the other two needed to be diluted within the water supply which is connected to the huge shower head."

"Won't seawater give an adverse effect?" Snape had pondered aloud, his eyes were still busy taking into account the open space and strange structural evidence in front of him.

"No Sir, Longbottom assured me of that, he said, it might burn a bit, but that is all."

"And how are you going to contain Mrs. Zabini?"

With a flick of his wand, the young man had made two sets of glass walls appear. Both the walls had about two feet gap between them, and they ran around the bath area.

"Sir during the ceremony, both of you would be standing beyond the last glass wall, you wouldn't be able to see anything apart from her scars, just her scars. And you wouldn't be able to hear much, I thought you would prefer it that way. But if one of us is truly in mortal danger only your animagus form will be able to separate us." The young man had dipped his head and had blushed. Schacklebolt had coughed and Snape had drawled," And, Mr. Zabini?"

"Umm, sir, Neville had cautioned since Greyback had marked Lavender as his first mate after Gabrielle, he would have a greater hold on her mind. This is more possible because Lavender has natural capacities of a seer, a skill she hasn't harnessed as of yet."

"How do you know that?"

"I have followed her progress throughout our school life."

"What happens here next?"

"Neville had asked me to help Lavender throughout the whole process. This means I might have to tie her up and hold her down. We will have to seal the bond then and there. Lavender has mentioned that as soon as we got married, Greyback is aware of it, my guess would be, despite everything, he will be on his way. If I can stake my claim, forgive me for the use of such words, Greyback will lose his hold on her, and I am praying this castle, the natural bog around it, the sea, the mist, and its million ghosts will aid us in keeping the mutt away for good."

Shacklebolt had asked the next question, "I have checked, the moon will rise earlier today, there will still be some light in the sky."

"I know, there is a possibility that she will change as soon as that happens. Perhaps almost immediately after we have sealed our bond. I will turn into my animagus form. Just in case I have given her a little demonstration of it."

Snape had grabbed the young man's collar in anger," Fool! So much for all the care, on one hand, you say, Greyback has a telepathic connection with Mrs. Zabini and on the other you display your animagus form to her, so that…"

Desperately trying to free himself, Zabini had choked out, "Sir, please, please listen to me first…I…I didn't allow her to see me, I had covered her eyes with a piece of cloth, and I had allowed her to stroke my coat." Severus had let go of him forcefully enough for the man to tumble backward. Nursing his throat, Blaise had looked back at him," I had warned her not to think or comment about me, she, she does not know what my animagus form is, instead, I had asked her to talk about anything she felt like, and I spend an hour sitting by her as a direwolf, listen to her chatter about her love for perfumes!"

Amused at the soft look that had passed over the new husband's face, Snape had pursed his lips, "I see, if you have done daydreaming, pick yourself up from the damp floor and get on with the rest of your explanation."

"Well, once she turns, I will turn into my animagus form and will step within the space between the two glass panes. She will be able to see me, in my wolf form, and since I have already claimed her as mine, Greyback will fail to trace her anymore, I will remain in my form as long as I can, but Neville had warned I might feel exhausted and might lose consciousness. But don't be worried, I will be fine."

"The spirits of my ancestors will provide their protection and are capable of misleading, and maim any other form of magical entity daring to set foot on this land. That is why, I had made you chant the words. Or else you would have either lost your mind or your magical abilities or worse, get killed." Shacklebolt had informed a brooding Snape.

"I see, how long are we to wait for the whole time, or is there a specific time frame?"

"I will get Lavender now. We had a heavy breakfast so that we could skip lunch…Elina, my house-elf, can get you both something to eat in the meanwhile."

While Zabini had left, the older men had been treated with sandwiches, custards and a flask of coffee, curtsy to the soft-spoken elf with big dreamy eyes. Snape had a sense of approaching danger, and he had checked on the pendant which Gabrielle had given him, next he had checked with the mantle watch of his office through his bracelet which gave him a slight relief, his bedroom door was still shut and Fawkes was guarding Hermione just like the bird had promised. Shacklbolt had noticed his restlessness, and the man had asked, "What is the matter, Severus?"

"Nothing, I just don't feel at peace, something terrible has happened but I…DRACO…Shacklebolt, Draco is in danger!"

Putting his firm hands on the resisting potion master, Shacklebolt had stopped him from leaving the room," You can't leave until the ceremony is over and Blaise has established his control over Lavender's werewolf form, the ghosts, the spirits of my ancestors won't allow you to leave before that," when the man had tried to jerk off his hands, the Minister had implored, "wait, Severus, I will send a word and see to it that your godson is fine." Leaving the restless man behind, Kingsley had stepped out of the bath area and had stepped back in front of the winding stairs. He had sent his Patronus to a scouting Aurora, Jordan had stationed near the Malfoy heir's new residence. When he had looked up, he had found Blaise guiding Lavender down the steps, her eyes were covered with a midnight blue silk cravat, the same one Kingsley had often seen Blaise wear.

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A/N: I played with a bit of history here, and some extinct animals, nothing though are related, or have any factual basis as per my knowledge. If readers find any link to the real world, that is just coincidental, imagine this as a work of spin-off fiction, please!


	22. Chapter 22

The regular disclaimer stays in place. AU and Oc are my babies, the rest I have borrowed from the treasure chest of JKR.

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Chapter 23

Miles away, Mrs. Snape had watched the sunrise. No, not exactly rise parse. The concave window, which she had accidentally discovered above the bed happened to be under the Great lake. She had just stretched her limbs after waking up from a very strange dream that included Snape, werewolf, veela and a small girl laughing at a joke and had accidentally pushed at a lever beside the headboard. The canopy overhead had parted away in a receding spiral formation and the bluish-green bottom of the lake had appeared. The bedroom was instantly filled with its magical aura.

Transfixed by the unaware land dwellers who would lazily pass by, mermen, jellyfish, starfish, schools of anchovy, even the great squid had brushed past the surface of the dome. She could also see several of the water plants, creepers swaying the current and had giggled like an excited little girl. There were many other species of which she could recall did have immense importance for a potion master. "This was like having an aquarium as your ceiling," she had thought to herself, "why on earth had Snape been such a nasty snarling piece of work, if he had the luxury to watch this marvelous display of aquatic life and sleep under it?"

"Because this was the first time that canopy had the luxury to retreat into the bed frame and the mirror was allowed to get a peep into the room." Fawkes's voice had hummed in her head. She had turned her head to find the phoenix peering at her while lazily leaning against the still unopened box brought in by her husband a few hours ago. Out of curiosity she had ventured, "Why?" Giving her a calculative look, the bird had replied back, "Our potion master was never too keen to allow others to get a glimpse of his private life. Here within this room, he has the luxury to be exactly who he is, and outside that door of the bedroom, he is the rude, snarky, greasy man the world is quick enough to judge."

"I see." The dull bluish-green had gradually started growing lighter and soon the room was filled with a brighter shade of that soft both relaxing and soothing to the eye. "He has gone for a long time now, I can feel him, you know, it is due to the bond, I feel his dilemma, his sea of emotions, Fawkes, are all Slytherin students just like this?"

"Mostly, but Severus champions over all of them. Much of it is due to his miserable beginnings, his gross mistakes, his hot temper, and his stubbornness, but Hermione, he is a starved man, who is close to forgetting what being loved feels like." Biting her lips, Hermione had turned towards the bird and had popped herself on her elbow," I think i have been quite unfair to him?" tilting its head, the bird had continued preening its feathers, but the woman had heard him speak, "How?"

"I said I could not love him, I mean with Ron still…"

"So you think you will find Late Mr. Weasley still holding on to your precious heart."

"I am certain."

"Oh! Really?"

"Oh, yes, I need to keep him alive within me, his demise must be mourned properly."

"And waste yourself away just like your husband has for the last two decades of his life, so I will give you two decades to mourn and then finally when you find your tears meant for Weasley has filled dried away, you look around only to find yourself beside your dying husband, whom you will just neglect and cause him to whether away in misery. How brave and just of you Granger. Can't believe, this is the same bushy-haired girl, spewing about elf freedom and mistreatment!"

"You are a nasty bird."

"You lack Albus's jovial intonation and Severus's bite. Your jibe is more like spiky new grass. And they call you the brightest witch of this age! Enough, what are you going to do about this box, here, I am sure Minerva has been very cautious, selective and thoughtful while arranging. As far as I know her, the Scottish Woman might have been collecting things for a very long time to arrange this thing for Snape."

Huffing in defeat the new wife had grabbed the present and had carefully untied the golden-red ribbon wrapped around the box snugly. Inside, there were two boxes. One had a brilliant red covering and the older was wrapped in dark green. She knew that the red one was meant for her, and had gingerly taken it out. Sharing a look with the watchful Fawkes, who had stretched its neck to see what Hermione had in her lap, she had muttered, "Well, let's see, what's in it?"

* * *

When Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan had managed to apparate in front of "Nesse's Bakery" it was dark and even the porch light had been switched off. Daphne had grabbed around Seamus's waist and the Irishman had to free one of his gloved hands to press something over the doorframe. A tinkling series of sounds after the door was opened from the other side. Daphne had curiously looked at a taller slender almond faced woman with a tight bun over her head, a Tunisian shawl wrapped around her shoulders holding a candle over her face. She had looked left and right and had grabbed both of them inside.

Clicking the latch close, she had turned, "Seamus! And they say you are an Auror, you forgot the simple drill, we had discussed this over and over again, when you apparate you always do so in the back alley!" halfway through her triad, she had caught the glimpse of the covering young wife," And this is the girl you talked about? She is one of those Greengrass. She is so young, and that dog had gone for her! Merlin, what to the world has reduced itself to? Did you both eat something, did the ministry even arrange for refreshments?"

Raising his arm up, Seamus had offered, "Aunt, we are really fine, I am safe, she well she is safe as well, yah, we could have some leftover pies, I saw you make today morning though. Aunt Ness, I can't even start to thank you!" Chaffing him on his head, the tall woman had briskly walked through an archway, the candle still held in her hand, "And he suddenly grows his manners, thank me, you nearly go get yourself killed and I am left thinking about the making of a third coffin! like I have a thick skin, I have just managed to stop getting nightmares of your parents torn dead bodies, thank me!

Seamus had noticed in the sparsely lit corridor, Daphna had a small smile ghosting over her face, and had clutched, "So now, you gather the courage to have fun at my expense, well, what can I say wife, but have your fill, Aunt was a tight-lipped iron lady before my parents were murdered. Now, she gets all worked up if I am a second late. Trust me, she is a good woman, she can be strict and stern, but you got to give it to her, she has a good heart, you will be in good hands," He had to stop short because just then both their stomachs had grumbled in unison, while Daphne had buried her face in his chest, Seamus had barked a hearty laugh.

"Now, will you two stop conspiring behind my back and have your food, this old lady needs her rest, don't forget I wake up with the dawn!"

"Coming Ness!"

The Irish man had led his wife through the archway, who had for the first time, had sniffed the air and several flavors had cordially greeted her into her new home. In awe, her eyes had sort after those inviting tendrils of vanilla, strawberry, coffee, chocolate, caramel, butterscotch, lemon, nuts, oh yes, and plum, rose, pansy, mint. They had not only danced around her but had played hide and seek within her nostrils, filling her lungs with new delights. Hungrily she had swayed forward, unmindful of her hands still gripping at her husband's sleeves.

"Easy there, Lil one, that happens to the best of one, Ness must have decided to let us dine in her shop, itself, a wedding present, we should consider that as a lovely one, dear, omph, hahaha!" But Daphna had dragged him ahead and had stopped short at the threshold of the prettiest confectionary shop she had ever seen in her life. Wizardry sweet shops even the confectionary boutiques she had been to during their numerous tours around the continent, were no match to this simple dollhouse-like sweet ambiance.

This was the first time she had been smelling all these flavors in their purest form, this was the first time she was getting dizzy over the silky touch of vanilla, the rolling waves of chocolate, the tumbling strawberries, all adequately juicy and ripe. She had turned and in the light of the lit chandelier Seamus Finnigan had for the first time seen his wife smile like a bright sunflower, her eyes open wide with mirth, her cheeks red and her pink lips stretched out and he had also noted something else. Mrs. Finnigan had two of the cutest dimples right in the middle of her cheek. Even if her blonde was unwashed and damp, even if her robes were ordinary, she was the most beautiful girl Seamus thought he had the honor to hold in his arms.

* * *

As she had yet again, wiped her nonsense tears away, folding the many dress robes, the hair accessories, the cloak, and several summer dresses, winter coats, Hermione had noticed a small elf fiddling its fingers at the edge of the cot. Thoroughly aware of their uncertain nature, she had managed not to yelp in surprise. Instead, in a shaky voice she had asked, "Hello, what is your name?"

The house-elf had greeted her with a bow and had flapped its ears, beaming with pride, it had saluted her, "Pin is happy to meet Madam Snape. Pin at your service Madam, though Pin will be glad if Madam Snape does not fall back to her childish foolishness and dare to gift Pin clothes. Pin has been proudly serving Master for decades. Pin takes his job very seriously, Pin…" Hermione had raised her palm to stop from going on with his practiced speech, "I vow, I will not think, dream or dare to give you clothes."

"Pin is glad to hear that. But Pin is here to give Madam Snape her breakfast…"

"Oh! Umm, would you get it here then, I don't think I am allowed to leave this room. I will just go and freshen up…"

"Wait, Pin has something for Madam Snape…"

Holding out his palm, the small gangly house-elf had given a potion phial to Hermione.

"Master wants Mistress to drink it, Master has asked Pin to make sure Mistress drinks it first thing in the morning" Watching the elf batting his eyes, turning his eyes balls from the phial then to her and then back to the phial, Hermione felt her cheek burn, but she had to ask, "Did your Master specify the reasons behind giving me this potion?"

If elves could blush, Hermione noted they usually turn into a deeper shade of prune. The house-elf had turned purple and had gone back to rolling his eyes, glancing at her face once, looking around the room, staring at her midriff, then at her hip, and then once again looking all around the bedroom. It had struck her then, "Oh, oh, I see, I see." No, thank you, I mean I will use it, I want to thank you for getting this, Pin."

Relieved, the house-elf had bowed once again and had popped out. Among the many items inside the red cover, Hermione had found a pouch which held several toiletries. Grabbing it, she had picked a burgundy dress and a pair of matching underwears. Nodding at the watchful Pheonix she had gone inside the bathroom. Before she could close the door, she had heard, its voice, "Don't try to drown yourself in the tub this time, I hate water and I would hate explaining your pathetic attempt to kill yourself in a feet deep ordinary Hogwarts tub to your dour husband." She had slammed the door with force, growling under her breath. Who could have thought the former headmaster's familiar had a passion to dish out dry deadpan humour. Phew! Keeping up with him had itself been an Herculian task.

When it had been noon, by now she could calculate that from the hourly gong of the Hogwarts bell, Hermione had grown a bit wary. She had had her breakfast and had managed to stretch her limbs with the help of some freehand exercises, much to the amusement of Fawkes. She had the time to look around the room more minutely. For example, she had found a pair of muggle glasses on the bedside table next on the left side. Figuring it was the side Snape had lied down after...she had shaken her head, trying hard not to blush, the wretched bird had spoken once again, "Muggle contraption, helps him read...though he does not use them often these days, maybe he is finally listening to the opti...healer."

"Prof...Snape…"

"Shut it for good riddance, he is your husband, you can call him by his name."

Mumbling under her breath, Hermione had replied, "I don't think so...I mean…"

"Then, try calling him Master Snape, you respect, rever, and you are not breaking your rules either."

"My rules?"

"I am tired of listening to the two boys getting barked at," it is Professor Snape" so please for both of our sane ears, call him Master Snape."

Hermione had again scrunched up her face, but then had tried to say the words, "Master Snape."

"See easy, cheesecake, finally I can rest. And if you are done with your ideal puttering around the room, I think you will be interested in reading the fifth book from the third shelf, there right beside the latest edition of 'Advanced Potion making and the newer findings from the new world'. Hermione had looked att he extended ceiling-high bookshelf but remembering that perhaps the potion master had copies of Dark Arts books somewhere above them, she had clasped her hands each time she had stood near the old tomes, reading their names one after the other.

When she had looked uncertain, Fawkes had drawled once again, this time her mimicry of Snape was perfect, "That one, only that one is not warded." Hermione had dived at it, swiftly bringing it out, bouncing back on the empty and clean bed, thanks to Pin, she had cracked open the front cover and had exclaimed in utter dismay, "WHAT! YOU WANT ME TO READ FAIRY TALES!"

"Leave the drama for the Slytherin girls, it does not suit you, yes Madam Snape, The Children's and Household Tales, is a collection of fairy tales by the Grimm brothers or "Brothers Grimm", Jakob and Wilhelm, this is the muggle version, once your purse-lipped husband is back, he will make you sit and explain a lot of things, that will make you understand, why, what and how your personal world has taken such drastic turns."

Screening through the contents, Hermione had wondered aloud, "This one is the very first edition?"

"Welcome to the personal library of one erudite Severus Snape."

After a while, she had once again spoken aloud, "What importance would a muggle book have in a magical world?"

"I can get why Severus always had little patience with you, I will sleep now and you will read quietly," snapping in her mind the Pheonix had actually buried its neck within the feathers of its chest and had closed its eyelids.

* * *

"Has she said anything yet?"

"No..apart from…"

"What, out with it boy!"

Seamus had picked up the washed dish from Aunt Nesse's hand and wiping it off with a washcloth, he had kept it over the rack right next to the kitchen sink. Gulping down, he had looked over his shoulder, only to find his little wife, standing on her toes, craning her neck up, trying to get a better look at the many souvenir muggle pictures which passing by tourist would pin up on the long wall, as a sign of gratitude.

"Umm, when I…"

Turning halfway, the woman had rolled her eyes, "Yes, I get it, you had to kiss her. Honestly boy, I know you are not a novice, you must have by now snogged half the girls living in that boarding school of yours. You are no different than your father. So yes, when you had kissed her during this binding ceremony, she spoke to you, what did she say?"

Huffing in irritation, the young man had once again made an attempt at grabbing yet another cleaned dish, "You say you are a squib and that you got no magic in you, but you are damn accurate about everything, are you sure none of our forefathers were seers, inclined to divination, druid priestess perhaps!" when the woman standing next to him had pinched his arm, his yelp had made Daphne turn towards the pair. Aunt Nesse had given the girl an impish grin and Seamus had turned beetroot red in the face. When she had turned back once again to look at the pictures, Seamus had heaved a sigh, growing a bit serious this time, "She said 'Iris', I don't want to think much into it, I am worried about her, Nesse, I had my Auror team set up discreet wards all around, I am sure at least for some months, Daphne will not walk out of this place on her own, the only thing she clings on to is me. But I am worried how will you manage her and the shop and the several patrons, the throng of tourists and hikers. How will we keep her away from the neighbors?"

Looking at the awestricken girl from over her shoulder, Nesse Donnewolf had heaved a sigh and had murmured, "Worrying too much will get us nowhere, we will do as the rising sun, the rolling seas ask of us." Wiping her hands and untying her wet apron, the confectioner had whispered, "Will you have to you know force her?"

"No, never, I was told that this Binding spell will be complete with the conclusion of consummating the marriage, but since she is underage, I can court her, but then we will have to be very close to each other, like you know sleep, eat, and hold each other and kiss, to keep the magical link between us alive."

"I see, boy, why don't you go up and show her around your apartment. I will come up, with a little surprise."

"Aunt Nesse, I don't…"

"It is not every day, you get married, you got a new wife in your house, we might not be able to organize a ceremony, but you must given your bride, a gift. Now go, take her upstairs, I will join you in a bit."


	23. Chapter 24

_**Disclaimer**_ : _The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.  
My mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though my body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. My themes, plotline, and storyline may, therefore, get indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet.(dg)_

* * *

**Chapter 24**

Draco was not really waiting for this moment. Well, he was, but not in the way it was slowly approaching. He had been looking at the clock over the mantel now and then, it was close to ten in the night. Maybe in an hour, or perhaps two… He just couldn't fathom how exactly to broach the topic to one very angry, literally fuming Ginny. When he had shown Kingsley, Lee Jordon, and Ginny around his Great Gran's Red villa, the man had nodded, but his new wife had managed to scowl again and again.

He didn't pry into what Jordan had said to his wife. He was rather pleased with himself. Kingsley had approved his workshop and his designs. It was something before the Dark Lord moving into the manor, that Draco had got the wind of this property. He had managed to locate this unplottable land, perhaps his great gran had set the wards to allow him, regardless of his age.

But then, he had spent hours in her workshop. Here during the fifth-year summer break, he had made the snake ring, that his wife was wearing in her ring finger. His very first accomplishment. Yes, Doreen Malfoy had a knack for jewelry making, though many were not away. She did have a small business run by other hired wizards, just to keep her off the books. Back in those days, she had managed to start a business of her own. She even had a boutique by the name, "Madam Flames pretty precious". Quite flamboyant, but he had looked about and had come across several documents that mentioned how the cream of the magical society would order from this exclusive boutique, having never met the maker. He had dreamt of doing the same. He had called his business, "Red". He would work behind the screen, appoint others to sell his stuff, have a boutique of his own. Women loved Jewels…Mother would always…say…

Ginny had been smarting since Draco had kissed her during the binding ceremony. She didn't wish to think much about it. _But the way his lips had moved, the way his breath had tickled her lips…There again, he was looking at the watch…surely, he was too eager to…this was what the tenth time. As if dinner was not torturing enough. Why was he acting so, so un Malfoy like? Why didn't he rise up to her jibes, why did he have to make a lemon-flavored pudding, how did he know, there again, he had checked the time…if he wants it, she will shove it right on his face._

"Why to sit here and check the timepiece, Malfoy, we know we got finish off _sealing this bond_ , let us get on with it then," screaming at him, with as much as hatred she to master, she had got up and had walked away.

She had stormed inside the bedroom ahead of him. When he had inched towards the open door, he had to stop on his tracks. She was laying above the midnight blue satin bedsheets, not a stitch on herself. Her tunic laid discarded near the foot bench. She had her arms crossed over her chest. He could not stop himself from staring at her. Her chest rose each time she took a breath. Her hair spread around her head, like a halo of a pagan goddess. Her legs long, firm, her stomach dipped, her hips full.

And she was his. He didn't wish to think of Potter or Dean or all those countless boys, she might have snogged in the dark corridors of Hogwarts. Ginevra was his wife. And Draco hated sharing what was his, with the world. Unknowingly he had taken a couple of steps inside the bedroom when she had turned her angry eyes on him. Shooting him with her venomous glare, she had bitten each of the words, "I am not going to let you enjoy it." Turning, she had laid down on her stomach. Her hair fanned around her head. Red against the midnight blue satin sheets. A pale candle, with a brightly burning wick, only he had the right to keep the fire burning with his touch.

He had removed his tunic. His pale slender body had shone. But here no one was eager to partake in his offer. She won't even look back. Like he was dirt below her feet. She won't even touch him as he had come out of the underbelly of the world. True, he was forced to spent days in close contact with pure Evil. But he was his mother's son too. He did have compassion. He could show affection, love, and adoration if only fate would give him a chance. He would die if he was left to his own devices. He needed her, just to live. He needed her, just relearn how to embrace life.

He had gulped a couple of times. He wanted to see her face. Her freckles, her flared up nose, her eyes. Her full lips. He couldn't debate with the reasons for which she was denying him all this. How ironic this was. Throughout his entire life, he had girls whining after him, to undress for the pleasure of their hungry eyes. He might have slept around a bit, but those hasty romps were fumbling of early tweenhood.

He had dreamt of truly enjoying his first time with his wife. Languish in depths of her supple body, cherish her soft touches, kiss her like a mad man. Twisted fate had to go and screw up with him yet again. He had managed to prepare himself through a couple of swift strokes, settling above her prone body, he had allowed himself to nestle over her stiff body. He had dared to touch her hip. But she had simply shrugged it off. He had placed his palm, ghosting it over the small of her back, she had slapped it away. Turning her head to one side, she had looked at him over her shoulder, "Don't touch me unnecessarily, Malfoy, if you still love your bits!"

To say he was going to take her lashing laying down, beg for her responses, was a folly. He had enough of it. He had knelt over and had thrust in her, for a moment forgetting who she was, and what they were, and why they were here together at this hour of the night. Surprisingly she had not screamed. She had got hold of a pillow, stuffing it below her head, and had bitten on it. He could see, her hands fisting the pillow in a tight grip. He could hear her whimper. She was not ready. Neither was she allowing him to make her.

She had been painfully clenching her muscles, threatening to choke him. Merlin, even in hatred, she was a seductress. The skin over her back had broken into goosebumps. Taunting him and luring him to have a taste of them. Her spine had flexed. He was in awe with the way each one of those bones had sent ripples through her muscles. Her skin had glowed, a sheen of sweat slowly forming over her naked expense. He had ventured to rub his knees on the sides of her hip, but as a warning, she squeezed, determined to suck out his life, his self-control.

He had leaned forward. The change in position had helped him ease the tension, had helped him slide further in. He could now feel her whole bareback rub against his chest. Exquisite was not even close to explaining this burst of newfound feelings racing in his veins. He had to brace his fall, or else he would end up smashing her into the mattress. In a daze, he had kept his palms on both sides of her head.

To simply think that she was crying, was an insult to nature. She felt like being violated. She felt like being shredded into million pieces. In her beating heart, she still loved Harry. And here she was under her new husband, the very person whose father had tried to kill her. Or get her killed, how was that different? She had been biting hard on the pillow. She had been gripping that soft covers in a tight fist, imagining it to be Lucius, imagining it to be the nasty snarling Draco Malfoy she was so familiar with. Hate, undiluted hate was the only feeling she had ever harbored for the Malfoy heir. But this man over her was confusing her ever since he had explained himself in that small ministry consultation room.

No, no, no, she would not give up her hate for his elusive display of compassion. A git is a git. End of discussion. Picking her head up from the now thorough wet pillow, she had caught his fingers in between her teeth and had snapped her jaw on them. If he was making her bleed to consummate their farce of a marriage, she would make him pay with an equal amount of sheering pain.

He had felt her teeth sink in his skin, breaking it, he was felt the sting then the burn and had tried hard not to yelp. No, he could not let her have the easy way in this matter. The pain was not something he would allow to borrow and find a cozy home in his marriage. For both of their sanity, he had to find another way. Gritting his teeth, he had kept quiet. But magic made sure to let loose the dam of swirling passion within both of them.

She had ultimately lost the battle of holding her grounds against his thrusts. What had started with a flicker of a small fire below, gradually spread around like wildfire, making her keen. The first wave of her shrugging orgasm had unhinged him completely, He had almost emptied himself, growling and grunting her name. She had heard him above her, and had screamed, "I hate you".

Gripping himself, he had immediately pushed away from her, away from the sinful bed, away from the beaconing, tempting calls of invisible tendrils of her passion. Doubling over, he had curled beside the bed, the after-effects of their undesired coupling rocking through him, disgracefully spilling himself. He had wailed, cried and had hit his head on the floor. Slapping the floorboard, again and again, he had screamed, "No, no, no, no, why me, why it is always me, why…." In between those streams of tears flowing down freely through his stormy grey eyes, "Why can't you see, I am not my father, not my father, not not, him, never."

An unsure voice from somewhere above had called him out of his raving, "Malfoy?"

After all this, he was still Malfoy to her. This broke him, shattered his walls, without looking back, he had pulled at the first thing he could get a hold of. A soft tunic. This would do. He had pulled himself up, thrown over the sheer piece of cloth on him, and had literally thrown himself away, into the bathroom. She could have the false satisfaction that she might have succeeded in tearing away his bits, by Draco wanted to be alone, to nurse his open wounds. Slamming the door shut, he had propped himself against it, fresh tears had started falling freely once again.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts, please.


	24. Chapter 24

The regular disclaimer stays, I am responsible only for my AU and OCs.

* * *

Chapter 24

Ever since Blaise had tied her eyes with his midnight blue silk cravat, Lavender had felt dueling emotions rocking her mind. On one hand, she thought, "This was it! '' and on the other, she could hear the beastly growls of Fenrir Greyback, she could feel his paws hitting the hard ground in quick succession, she could feel absolute terror gripping her throat. Along with all this, she had started feeling her muscles spasm subtly, her stomach quiver as if her womb was preparing itself for her mate.

_Blaise had taken care of helping her change into her ceremonial clothes. Knowing fully well that he would see her without them in moments, he had blindfolded himself while helping her peel away those layers of bandages. He had made sure not to touch her unless it was required. Cautiously he had helped her put those sleeves up to her bruised arms, with great care, he had tied the knot that secured the tunic around her waist. She had left his breath hitch time and again, she had seen his Adam's apple bob now and then. She had both seen and felt his trembling fingers. She couldn't help but blush at the recurring thought, did he really find her that attractive even with all these open wounds._

_Greyback had dug his nails in her soft cheeks, leaving behind claw marks, those scars still looked angry, but Zabini had kissed them time and again, repeating against her skin, "Beautiful, pure, perfect!" She thought she should at least show this magnificent man some gratitude. Peeling away, his blindfold, she had stood on the tip of her toes and had given him a chaste kiss. Just a bare touch of her lips over his broader ones had made the man moan. Swaying on his feet, Blaise had grabbed her head and had devoured her then and there. Pressing her into his body, he had made it clear to her, neither his fingers, nor his breath, nor his heart had been lying to her. She aroused him, she enticed him and by simply kissing her breathlessly, he could prepare her for himself._

_Kissing her brow, again and again, he had whispered against her sweating temple, "Be mine, and let me be yours, be mine Lav, tell your heart and mind, body and soul to choose me. And me alone. I might have to be rough with you, I might bind you, let you suffer a bit, and know this, remember this, I love you, I have loved you and I will continue to love you. I don't share what is mine. You. Are. Mine. Tell me, Love, will you have me? Will you?"_

_"I might hurt you, Blaise…"_

_No sooner had these words tumbled out of her already swollen lips, Blaise had once again trapped them between his, nibbling, licking, sucking at them like those were the real culprits and not her mind. Like those were the ones filling her with thoughts of terror and uncertainty. Prying her lips open with his brutal lips and teeth, he had bitten her shy tongue, sucking the tip, he had groaned like a wolf in heat. But soon, he had let go of them and had started planting wet kisses over her jawline. Lavender could no longer think clearly, his earlier description of him as a passionate man, sounded so lame in comparison to this powerful foreplay._

_Only when Blaise had heard her reply, "I will if you show me how not to hurt you," did he start shaking with relief, joy, and rare determination. He will save her, he will keep her and at the end of all this he will, if luck is on his side, tear open Greyback limb by limb. Murmuring in her red ear lobe, grinding himself against her belly, he had confessed one of his secrets, "La mia ragazza perfumo."_

* * *

Fenrir Greyback had watched Tom Riddle and had hated the man with all his blood. He wanted that very throne the Dark Lord sat on and ruled over the stammering, quivering cream of the magical wizard society. He wanted that unquestionable power to be his own, he wanted for once to relish the feeling of being all-powerful and omnipotent. Thus, within his Staghorn Lair, that many had started connecting with him, he had started scheming, leading his pack to share his singular dream. Finish or turn very wizard, breed the witches and create a strong werewolf army, just like those of his ancestors.

There were some hurdles in this dream though. Harry Potter, Severus Snape, and Remus Lupin. Lyall Lupin's only son. The hateful words of that sly and clever father would still ring in his ears, "Soulless evil deserving nothing but dead." Fool, a bigot fool just like his many ancestors perhaps. He carried the honor of bearing the name Lupin so proudly, yet how ill-informed was the man. Greyback on the other hand had instantly recognized his kin. But the hot heated werewolf had felt insulted and humiliated by the way the man had disgraced him. Escaping from the clutches of these unprepared wizards was a party trick or the man. Hiding in the shadows, he had started stalking the Lupin family. While watching the husband, wife and their only son lead a rather uneventful life, he had wondered, could the Lupin branch of the "Tolles Wolfsrudel" or Great Wolf Pack manage to subdue the lycanthropic tendencies?

Greyback was not a bookish man, never had been, his family was always roaming around the continent with circus caravans. 'But a wolf could always recognize his kin. It was in the smell; it was in the build; it was in nature.' He had heard his elders, "The Grauers", time and again, repeat these words. Some believed in the lore that a child was initiated into the pack, only after the alpha had gifted him with his bite. When he had been just five, his parents had made him sleep in his uncle's tent.

They had been camping near the mouth of a forest river and had just arrived after a successful month-long show in the nearest city. The little boy was glad he had a cot of his own for the night, glad they had left the door flap open, so that he could see the full moon throughout the night. He had remembered a frightening growl, something pitch-black and shining moonlike pouncing on him and a gut-wrenching pain shooting up from his shoulder. He had woken up after three days, the circus dwellers had greeted him like he had been born new. The next full moon, he had turned and for the first time had realized who and what his family was.

Watching the small boy from among the branches of the tree nearest to the wizard's house, Greyback had wanted two things, get his revenge from Lyall Lupin for mocking him and actually turn the boy, just to know what these wizards have done in order to hide the gift of being a wolf. He had succeeded partially. Well, the revenge had been extracted, the boy had been bitten but Fenrir had failed to learn the magic that made the blood refuse the call of the pack for so long. The father had launched a voluntary search for the assailant and Fenrir had to flee. It was only then that he had come in contact with the rising Evil of the Age, Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort. He had thought, this was the time to join someone more powerful and gather more strength, he was in need of new and strong pack members, and he was in need of an ally. And this wizard so full of him, I could easily use him as the stepping stones to establish the rule of werewolves.

And once again Greyback had underestimated the wizards. Who started off as a compatriot soon turned into The Master! Even while raiding villages, killing or turning innocent muggles and magical folks into werewolves, Greyback had often thought of Remus Lupin and why hadn't the boy come forward to join his pack. Could he not hear the call of the pack? Perhaps not. Taking Tom Riddle's mark had been an imposition he just could not afford to refuse. As a result, his personal dreams had been pushed aside and in their place Riddle's doctrines had dug their roots deep into his mind.

As soon as the defeated and lonely werewolf had apparated deep into the Forbidden Forest, he had snuck down on his knees. The sudden attack at his Staghorn Lair was truly unexpected. The luring taste of power had made him go blind, the constant urge to find a mate that made his animal instincts override his thinking capacities. The French girl was soon to deliver his cub, but this desire had turned him mad enough to look for the marked Brown Girl and the Parkinson doll. And each and everything those scrupulous wizards had been several steps ahead of him.

It was after he had entered his cave, he had realized the Greengrasses were only acting as a bait to draw him out. And Malfoy whelp was at it again. He could pick up the smell of the werewolf he had sired, and Severus Snape had his precious cub. His scent had been everywhere, mixed along with the scent of a newborn. A series of apparition pops had forced him to leave the place in haste. He had abandoned his useless pack members, he had no need for those who could not protect their own, let the wizards chop those brainless heads! At least he had succeeded in killing the Lupin boy. He could vouch on his claws, he had left deep puncture wounds, digging deep enough to reach for the traitor's lungs.

But tonight, tonight the vengeful werewolf wanted Snape. The sly, sniveling, whipping post of Riddle, who had risen high enough down the years to even surpass that peacock Malfoy, and become the Dark Lord's Second in command. If he knew anything of the man, he was sure his cub was somewhere hidden in the bowels of the deserted Hogwarts. As he had made his way through the trees, he had managed to hide from the centaurs, but he could feel someone else stalking him. He had turned about now and then, had stooped down several times, his dark eaters' cloak had helped him blend with the forest floor. The cluster of trees had gradually begun thinning away, and then the silent stalker had struck. He had turned just in time to see a bluish smokey apparition descending on him from the right and a blinding light fire rocketing towards him from the left.

Fetching his wand, Fenrir had tried several dark spells he could recall, but the two bird-like creatures had been relentless. Nothing could stop them, they had succeeded in tearing his robes, clawing his skin, scarring his face…while battling with these unknown and unheard Defenders of Hogwarts grounds and Forbidden Forest, Greyback had felt someone trying to adulterate the connection he had established while marking the Parkinson and the Brown girls. His momentary distraction had given his attacker the chance to gorge his eye out. Fumbling back, screaming in pain, the wolf had apparated away.

* * *

With the ward tripping wolf finally making a hasty retreat, Fawkes had readjusted himself, finding a high branch on the nearest tree, he had turned to the bluish smoky apparition still hovering above the spot where moments ago Fenrir had lost his eye.

"Smwg, give it a rest the mutt has truly gone, toss back that appendix he left behind, let's do away with it."

Tossing the gorged eye towards the general direction of the resident Pheonix of Hogwarts, the bluish apparition had morphed itself into yet another phoenix, only this one had a deep burgundy feather coat with streaks of lava red and bluish shades of flame. While Fawkes had managed to burn the remnant of Fenrir into ashes, Smwg had come and settled beside his twin and had started preening his feathers. He spoke at length, his voice a little hoarse than his brother," So when are you introducing me to your familial wizard?"

"Before that, I need to prepare them, but I have a favour to ask."

"I guessed; the spirits of the Black Forest have suddenly started acting up. They say something has awoken Nacht and he has once again gone to the part which had been sealed away centuries ago."

"I see, but I was asking for something else…"

"What?"

"You have seen the boy who lived grow, you have often expressed your interest in him, his familiar is dead, he could now do much better if you…"

"I see, once again sweet talk me into becoming someone's lap dog."

"Smwg! I would never…"

"I would go…"

"You will?"

"It is a bother, to keep hearing his struggling thoughts, he has to regain his confidence, his magical power, his self-esteem, he has a family to take care of, he has to get stronger once again. But I think your Master would wish to give something of importance to his ward as well…I will come back after a couple of nights; I would like to meet the powerful Potion Master of Hogwarts and his wife then."

"Thank you, Smwg. "

Flapping his wings, the twin had flown away, but his last words had made Fawkes beam, "What are brothers for! Fire!"

* * *

When Astoria Weasley had worked on the unconscious Draco Malfoy, George and Ginny had watched on from the other side of the bed. The Aurors were still present, but those two were squabbling like married couples at one corner. George had squeezed at Ginny's shoulder, whispering, "So?"

"I swear, I didn't…I…"

"Gin?"

"He said he hates his surname, he hated his father, he had destroyed his grave after they had burned him today, he said he cared and loved me. He had been secretly doing that for a while now. George, how many masks do these Slytherins wear?"

Looking back at his wife, the surviving twin had bit his lip and had run his tongue over it. She had just kissed him, like that. Nothing was said about it before, neither did they have the chance to talk about it afterward. Like it did not happen at all. The image of her soft and slender leg had befuddled him. He thought he liked her bossing around, but then she had been equally quiet. He had enjoyed watching Richter getting verbally thrashed. The man had been sulking ever since and Brommare was having a tough time drilling the same reasons into that pig head ever since.

"I don't know. Maybe…"

"Sorry, I had interrupted you both…"

"WHAT?" His exclamation had made the other three turn and spear him with their burning glares, and Ginny had elbowed him. "Have you been eating lipstick!"

"Goss Ginny…!" rubbing his lips on his sleeves, George had also managed to hide the goofy smile.

"Umm, we were fighting and then…"

"I get it, but I don't understand…George, why am I feeling so bad?"

Just then, Astoria had got up and had walked up to the brother and sister, rubbing her hands she had observed, "I have managed to stop the blooding and had to paralyze his arm so as it allow the wrist to heal back, Mrs. Malfoy could you show me the bathroom please?"

Ginny had gaped at the polite request and had walked out of the room dumbfounded. The moment the door had shut behind them, the woman behind her had grabbed her hand and had pulled her inside the study, locking the door with a spell, and adding a strong silencing spell over it, she had turned. Without even given Ginny a chance to speak she had started talking.

"I can guess what happened, but I want you to understand one thing, we might have been standing on the opposite side a while ago, but now, we all are on the same side. This was not the first time; Draco Malfoy had tried to take his life. He had been at it since, the Dark Lord had started torturing his parents. I am aware, we all might have got some deranged people as parents but still watching the people you love getting tortured but being unable to do anything about it is torture in itself. His father had this charmed whip that would whip him all through the first night once he was back home at the end of every academic year. I am sure you have seen those marks. Don't jump into conclusions. We all knew about it after he had come back in the second year. Malfoy might not like many people, but if he has a choice, he would rather ignore them and seclude himself with things he rather likes doing and not pick stupid fights. "

"I…"

Walking forward Astoria had touched Ginny's shoulder, the gesture had yet again shocked the Gryffindor," I have a sister, who is yet to speak a word to me after the encounter with Greyback. If Draco has selected this place, something which is extremely dear to him, if he has given you his ring, explained your brother about it, then I suggest, allow that unconscious man to tell you his side of the story as well. And don't get ideas into your stubborn head. Blaise and Draco are like brothers to me, and I promise this to you, Ginevra, I don't wish to take advantage of your brother. Instead, I have been asked by the Minister of Magic, to mend him back, drag him out of his drinking stupor, we are still at war, and each and every Slytherin respects the magnificent pranks of the Weasleys."

"He misses Fred."

"I know, Fred Weasley is equally mourned by every student of Hogwarts, and by every, I mean every single student."

"What do I do now?"

"Try to adjust, observe, listen, learn, think and respect the man who keeps having nightmares even today with your either getting killed and tortured in every one of them, and he is forced to watch all of it."

Squeezing her shoulder once again, Astoria had offered her a smile, whipping out her wand once again, she had mumbled a scourgify charm and in moments her clothes were prim and proper. The moment she had lifted all those spells from over the door, Brommare's voice had floated in, "Ladies, out now!"

Swinging the door open, Astoria had smirked the moment the Hufflepuff had stumbled inside. Nearly catching herself, the Auror had looked at both the woman and had narrowed her eyes, "You two better not be up to hatching some vile plots."

"Hatching, interesting Word, Brommare, on the contrary I was just advising my friend's new wife about the several misfortunes the Pureblood families faced regarding the Hatching. I am truly all in "favour of this new marriage law. So, you came for us, why?"

Trying to hide her embarrassment, the Former Hufflepuff had stammered, "Malfoy is groaning."

When three of them had returned to the spare bedroom, George had helped Malfoy prop himself against some pillows. The man looked worse to wear and sickly pale. But the moment Ginny had walked in, he had turned his face away. Without even staring at the disinterested Aurors, he had apologized for bothering them, and had requested Dorsie to see them off but not before making sure they had something warm to drink or eat. Grudgingly the two had left the four alone. And then, in a very soft voice, he had called for George, "Mr. Weasley if I could speak to you in private? Just you…"

* * *

 _La mia ragazza perfumo_ means my perfume girl in Italian.

Grauers is Greys in German.

Please note: I took help from Google Translate. I might be wrong, and it might sound horrible if anyone of you has a better suggestion regarding the two foreign word or words mentioned above feel free to drop them in the comment section.


	25. Chapter 25

The regular disclaimer stays, JKR has a big sandbox and I am spending my free time in it.

* * *

**Chapter 25**

Andromeda Tonks sat back sipping her morning tea by the window, that allowed her to enjoy the morning sun, the cool forest breeze and watched with delight how small birds, insects, and butterflies kept coming back to several patches of vegetation that covered one side of the clearing dense into the heart of the Black Forest of Germany. Luna had proposed that they should grow their own food because venturing out of the protected clearing was not advisable so soon after managing to settle in. The old woman heaved a sigh, the girl's friendship with Neville Longbottom did make her apprehensive initially. Though she could not ask her, she did worry about how both Harry and Luna would adjust to such epical changes in their personal lives.

Andromeda had reasons behind her questioning thoughts. She grew up among staunch believers of pureblood supremacy, even believed in many of the superstitious notions until she met Edward Tonks, fell in love with his simplistic muggle ways, and married him. Till the very end, she was certain both of them did lead a happy married life. They were proud of their only daughter Nymphydora and later on their little family grew with the addition of Remus Lupin. As she watched Luna mumbling and cooing to Theodora in her arms, who in turn was gurgling and rolling in baby giggles while the butterflies danced around their head, right outside the window, Andromeda thought back of the first night she had spent in this magical cottage.

_The night was too still, the air stagnant. Even the flow of water in the old pipes of the prehistoric bathroom could be heard from anywhere inside the cottage. The babies woke up only once feeling hungry. Poppy's formulas had worked wonders, making the grandmother think, did Snape lace some of them with a few tiny drops of Dreamless Draught? She couldn't manage to sleep that night. As she sat through the night manually rocking those two bassinets with both of her hands, She caved in finally._

_Every member of her family was dead. The love of her life Teddy, how mercilessly had the death eaters torn him apart. She never had many feelings for Bellatrix but in her own way, she adored Narcissa, if only she had refused to marry Lucius Malfoy, instead pursued on with her studies, perhaps she wouldn't have to die such a death. The untimely death of Remus and her little Dora shook her to the core. How frightened she was the very first time she heard from Remus how Greyback had returned to Hogwarts to get his paws on Lavender Brown. That alone had made her seek out miraculous survivor, Severus Snape. If someone was to write a fantastic story once all of this was over, well maybe a century later, perhaps they would think of starting writing with the mention of her name in the very first line._

_A stray sound of rustling dry leaves, made her lookup. There right through the glass panes of the bedroom window, she saw the huge hunched back shadow. Judging its peculiar edges, she surmised it to be a rather large four-legged furry animal. It sat on its hind legs, ears pricked at the sound coming from the forest, but those eyes remained trained on her weeping one. That night as the newlywed husband and wife right next door celebrated their first night together, the old woman sat alone in utter darkness. Only those pairs of burning yellow eyes of an unknown animal kept her awake. She had decided to do the oddest thing, take solace from its presence._

* * *

The Black Family didn't take even an hour to disinherit her and cut off her name from the grandeur family tree tapestry as soon as they got the news of her marriage to Muggle born Edward Tonks. The family had already been getting ridiculed because their second daughter, Andromeda had fled away. The Lestrange family had taken no mercy in humiliating Cygnus Black at the drop of a hat.

The news of her marriage had left an everlasting effect on the family, Druella Black took it upon herself to burn every single item that reminded her of Dora and she hadn't even spared her other daughter Bellatrix. To keep the scornful Lestranges appeased, the eldest daughter was swiftly promised in marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange. This had in turned made Bellatrix more jealous of Narcissa and more angrier with her blood traitor sister. The demented girl didn't have much respect for docial norms and to be tied to a person in this manner made her vengeful.

Ted Tonks earned dissent enough, but it was his love and undivided affection that never allowed Dora to look back to her privileged life. The couple were already content with their life when a letter from a stranger turned their luck from good to better. Though it took years for Mrs. Tonks to realise the"better" part. The lawyers of the Late Helga Flammore came knocking the next day, informed her stand as the single claimant to the assets of the deceased, handed over six trunks- the only possession the old Squib woman had and left without sparing another word.

Surprised, confused and doubtful, the woman had contacted both Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley. Though the wizards had failed to locate a hidden spell, curse or jinx and had also failed to locate how the benefactor was related to the Black family, noticing that the trunks were only filled with old tomes and journals about plain and simple things, they advised the couple to accept it.

Initially weary, Andromeda soon found herself reading through those freshly acquired books that not only talked about the muggle world but also delved into the lost connection between the two societies. Helga Flammore was quite a staunch believer that all those fairytales and folktales that mothers told to children during bedtime were pretty real and did happen a long time ago. Late Miss Flammore was most obsessed with the stories of the Grimm Brothers. To be more precise, she had journals filled with notations and observations of one particular tale- Red Riding Hood. The expecting mother enjoyed these journals like any other fascinating story books at times even wondering about how far deranged was her distant Aunt's mental capacities.

Though after the birth of Nymphadora Tonks, those six old trunks got relocated in the attic and sadly forgotten about. It was not until her Hufflepuff daughter had one day dragged in shy Remus Lupin for an official introduction, that the woman recalled those journals collecting dust in her attic. Both Ted and she did appreciate their daughter's choice, but Lupin had been skirted away from the obvious questions all through the evening. The mother suspected the boy's withdrawn attitude, instead of preparing her daughter for an inevitable heartbreak, she went up to the attic and brought back the chronicles of the Schwarze Nacht.

_As expected Lupin had dropped in within a week when both the father and the daughter were away and the mother was alone in the Tonks cottage tending to her Gardenias. And she was thoroughly prepared this time._

_Inviting the hesitant man into the backyard garden she had mentioned in passing, "I was wondering how soon will you break and come rushing back, requesting me to explain it to Dora."_

_Lupin's eyes brows shot up, back he simply bowed down his head in shame," I should not be anybody's ideal choice in the first place."_

_Still trimming the hedges, Andromeda asked," Why, because you can't control yourselves during the full moon, that should not keep you away from cherishing this wonderful thing called life."_

_The man had stepped back," You know!"_

_Keeping away, her cutting scissors, the woman dragged the man into the house. She made him sit at the diner table, made a pot full of tea, brought out the shortbreads she made in the morning and sat down next to him. Pouring him a cup of the fresh brew and offering him a large display of biscuits, she smiled," The magical world is full of mysteries and I seem to have a large nose for it,"tapping the side of her nose she chuckled. "Do you mind if I call you by your name, because each time I say, " " I am keeping remembering your father."_

" _You knew him?"_

" _Not personally, but I did read a lot of court proceedings. I did have an interest in joining the Wizengamot, but my family was too eager to get me married off. I fled, fell in love with a wonderful person, married him, gave birth to a beautiful daughter and now I have also earned the honour to sit among the juries during many court proceedings of the Wizengamort as well."_

" _Under any circumstances then, I shouldn't be here in the first place."_

_She placed her arm on his hand and held on it firmly, when he tried to jerk away. Looking deep into his eyes she said with all the compassion she could master," Lyall Lupin is an honorable man. His only mistake was to mock and ridicule Greyback. What happened with you all those years back was most unfortunate. But did you ever stop to think why were you so powerful from the very beginning?"_

" _I don't understand…"_

" _Remus Lupin, whatever I will say from this moment, is here, already documented,"pushing over a box full of parchments and notes," you can take them with you and read through them. You can come back anytime with more questions. But as of now I do want you to find answers to the questions I have for you._

_Remus, why did Greyback attack you in the first place?_

_Have you ever wondered why you could never consider joining Greyback's pack? But then you felt most content in your life at the company of James Potter, Sirius Black and Pettigrew?_

_Why is your surname Lupin?_

_Within your surname lies your legacy, the secret to your past and the answer to many of your questions."_

_The young man had come back the very next day agitated and bursting with energy. Andromeda had only opened the door, when the man had barged in, throwing an endless list of questions without making much sense at all. The woman had to stun him to keep him from working himself out of breath._

_A quarter of an hour later, both had sat over their cups of tea, and Remus muttered," So I am related to Greyback? Our families actually belong to the Black Forest of Germany? Underneath all of these,"gesturing to himself, he stared back at a knowing Andromeda," I am a direct descendant of Schwarze Nacht. I am a wolf."_

" _Yes, you are, at least these journals and research work validates that point, before you jump into questioning me about them, I would like to inform you, I don't jump into conclusions unless I am certain about things. Why do you think Dumbledore allowed you to attend school in the first place?"_

" _He knows of all this as well?"_

" _I would prefer to make the calculated assumption that he knows at least the crust of it."_

_All of the sudden, the man had dropped his shoulders and signed," Even then, all of this doesn't really mean much. Me being stronger than other werewolves, don't secure my future. I survive on odd jobs. I can't even provide for myself. How will I keep Nymphedora happy and content?"_

_The woman next to him had turned, sitting straighter, she had placed her hand over his and held on it, " Remus, now that you know about your relation with Greyback, will run back to him and join the ranks of He-who-must-not-be-named?"_

_Leaning forward the man had stared hard, his jaws taut with burning anger," Never!"_

_His growling voice had turned Andromeda's blood cold, making her realise Remus Lupin could be as lethal in his werewolf form as docile he was while being a normal human being. She swallowed hard and pressed on," If it ever comes to it, will you consider in participating whole heartedly in lifting the curse on Schwarze Nacht, because magical people around the Black Forest and even Muggles have often mentioned of a ferocious ancient spirit guarding a vast area with can be recognised as the Lair of the Old Pack. Something I am sure Greyback is unaware of. And I don't wish him to learn of it ever."_

_The man had thought about it the whole night long, tossing and turning on his soggy bed. If he was truly part of a legacy, if he was indeed a descendant of some powerful chieftain or magical warlord, he could live with it, because it carried the sense of belonging. The more he thought, he realised the whole magical world had centred itself around powerful families. If he could validate his unique stand by somehow lifting the curse on his ancestor, who was believed to be still alive somehow, in the dense forest of Germany, he would earn some luck to say the least. More than money and wealth, Lupin valued family ties. And it was one of the many things he shared with Nymphadora Tonks._

* * *

When the next time, the man came by, he chose to come during a saturday evening. This time with a small bunch of flowers for Nymphadora. The young couple had gone out informing the parents that they would dine outside and Remus had vowed to Ted, he would drop his daughter back before the clock struck ten. Ted had hugged Andromeda while she was busy making the sauce to go with the broiled chicken roasting merrily in the oven. He had murmured in her ears," Something tells me, I need to thank you more than that goofy bloke for tonight's miracle?", she had turned and kissed her husband and whispered back," I just made sure the children were happy together."

Her blissful bubble broke on the fateful day of the Battle of Hogwarts, when she heard Lavender Brown's cryptic warning. She had wasted no time in paying an extremely late night visit to the surviving potion master of Hogwarts and narrating him the same tale, convincing him that the curse of the Schwarze Nacht was real, the prophecy of Gran Grezel was real. Greyback had the veela girl and they must strike at his lair, they must save the girl and they must hide infant Ted Lupin at any cost. Holding on the his pitch balck robe sleeves, she had nervously whispered," And we must find a way to secure every single surviving witch and wizard or else, Greyback will wipe out every trace of Magical Britain."


	26. Chapter 26

The regular disclaimer stays, JKR has a big sandbox and I am spending my free time in it.

* * *

**Chapter 26**

"Aunt Dora, how would you like your eggs today?" Harry called her without turning away from the small kitchenette. From the very first morning, the young man had declared he would like to share almost every single task they would have at hand. When Andromeda objected, he simply made her sit and watch him make a proper English Breakfast. It was rather thoughtful of Hermione Granger to pack at least three months' ration. That bright witch did run through every option at hand. And it was a sight to watch the man who had defeated Voldemort twice in his short life, play the role of a doting father to both Ted and Theodora whom he had adopted thanks to the tricks Shacklebolt had up his sleeves, cook meals without breaking a sweat and steal lovey-dovey glances at his young wife.

Andromeda had to bite her cheek each time she caught the man, watched an unperturbed Luna tend to the babies, or look after the vegetable garden, or simply sit at the porch and close her eyes, enjoying the nature around her. "Young love," she would tease him at times.

One evening when Luna had decided to put up string lights around their Tiny House and had shoved Harry out, the young man had sought her out. Andromeda had toyed with the man, "Oh! Claysmith, I never thought you had such sharp teeth." When the young man had given her a quizzical look, she had dragged her words, " Well, not very difficult to see those bite marks all over your wife's shoulders, if she forgets to pull the glamour spell one morning." The man had turned the perfect shade of red and had ducked his head in embarrassment. She in turn had brook into a peal of hearty laughter. But then felt sorry for him.

Nudging him, she apologized, "That was rude of me, I am sorry Harry." it was in his good nature to forgive and be considerate. He had grabbed her offered hand, giving it a squeeze, said, "Don't be, I mean, apart from Ted making crazy faces and Theodora looking absolutely gobsmacked about everything around her, you can always tease me to have some intelligent source of laughter. I know Luna is a bit removed from…" Aunt Dora had smacked his head hard," Never badmouth your wife, she is unique, remember she grew up without a mother to show her the way of the world."

Harry looked apologetic, "I know, I am sorry." Smiling back, she continued," Though we both do agree there are certain things that Mrs. Claysmith will never abide by. On the contrary, be thankful that she comes with a free spirit. Embrace it, boy, you have been under people's big fat thumbs for long, it is time for you to learn how to live."

At length, he had looked up, and admitted, "Aunt Dora, she is truly unique, she makes me forget things, she makes me smile, like...I don't really know like whom or like what? I don't have anything else to compare this feeling with? When I am involved with Ginny or that brief thing with Cho...nothing ever felt like this. I look forward to waking up in the morning and watching her sleep. I like the way she keeps blabbering with Theodora or swings Ted in her arms. She doubts whether she will ever be good enough. But I think whatever she is doing is just perfect. I think she is perfect."

Andromeda tried hard not to sniff and tear up. instead, she had patted his cheek and fixed his crooked spectacles. Looking into his eyes she helped him see things for the first time, "Enjoy these things that you are feeling at last, because Mr. Claysmith, this is called Love. You, sir, are in love with your wife and both of you are working in perfect rhythm in bringing up this puzzled up family that forced both of you to marry in the first place. Trust me, this is something to cherish, relish and float and drown in."

* * *

Mrs. Astoria Weasley's face fell when she realized what was going to happen once she was going to Ginny Malfoy out of the room. These Weasleys had no idea how the man of the house functioned. Draco Malfoy was truly not like his father, who would torture first and then ask questions. Neither did he do the opposite unless he was far too angry to see reason. He was more like his godfather, an enigma in the making. Most of the things he did or say outside the Slytherin dorm was a pure act to keep his father's ego satisfied. The way he carried himself within the Slytherin common room among other children of prominent death eaters and ardent followers of Voldermort was a well-made guise to keep their noses turned away from his person. A handful of them knew the real Draco Malfoy under all those layers. He was at the end of the day his mother's son.

He was studious and made the best use of all the resources he had the privilege to get access to. He was so much like Granger when it came to academics. Both Blaise and Him were the only students in the class who would stay back in the common room and wait for every student to return late into the night. She remembered when Daphne was still small, how the blonde Slytherin would sneak her away for a broom ride. The sister had come running to Astoria and whispered secretly, "Drake is chweet bro'der." Draco Malfoy always wanted the warmth and comfort of a family. And she knew he said he hated the Weasleys, but under all those barbed words, he was envious of their strong family bonds.

When he heard the door close shut, he asked George to take a seat. Still looking through the window and watching the calm Nature outside, he cleared his throat and began, "Mr. Weasley, I made sure that the bond is completed and the protection charms are in place. Your sister is safe and under my blood protection from now on. Even the ring will provide her more safety. You can take back with you."

George was prepared for a verbal lashing or a bunch of derogatory remarks, but never in his dreams did he imagine Malfoy speak to him in such a matter of fact manner. He tried," Mr. Malfoy, I am apologizing on my sister's behalf…"

But Draco turned to look at the man straight in his eyes," You have nothing to apologize for, George Weasley. Things happened the way they happened because there were meant to. You Weasleys have always grown up together, close to each other, as one big family. Your sister will obviously find this house too empty for her taste."

Heaving a sigh, he began again," Though I assure you, being married to me, would make her privy to every property and every asset I will ever own. Either tomorrow or the day after I will have Dorsie deliver some of the essential things, like clothes...at the Burrow. Through marriage, she naturally has access to make use of Dorsie's services. I give her the freedom of choice to lead her life the way she would want to. I will not ask anything in return. Though I do need to apologize to you for one thing. I got carried away and well," jerking his wounded hand once he said, " I swear to you, I will not do anything foolish ever again. Mr. Weasley Astoria and Daphne are like sisters to me, though both of our parents had different ideas. And I assure you I will continue to see your wife as a family as a sister. I wish that you will take good care of her and that Seamus Finnigan will continue looking after Daphne with the willingness he showed back in the ministry."

George mumbled back," I agree all of this is too quick and too much to handle for each one of us. Ginny is just like Mum wild and passionate, but I know she has a good heart. Malfoy, you got to understand, she had to see the man she loved for years get married to some else…"

"That is why I think a bit of distancing is prescribable."

Both men realized there were too many things left unsaid, and untouched, but they left it at that nevertheless. Their wounds were raw, both physical and mental, the world around did flip on its head and placed too many responsibilities on all of their plates. Crumbling down under its weight was not going to help anyone. Bobbing his head, feeling quite put out, because he was not accustomed to a brooding, reasonable far-sighted version of Draco Maloy, George asked, "What about you?"

Malfoy had looked but at him with such an unguarded display of shock that the man had to shift back a little. Noticing how he had made Weasley wary, he schooled his features and replied, "I should have expected it to come from you. After all even the technically orphan Potter and the completely unsure muggle-born Granger found a family among the huge Weasley brood for many years, should have expected you would ask about me, even after everything I did...Well, what can I say, thank you, Mr. Weasley, what was quite kind of you to ask, but I have grown up as a lonely child, I know how to live all by myself. I will manage, as soon as I am healed up. I got a business to get back to and of course I got this house to keep me company."

"Malfoy, um Draco...we are all a part of a big family now...if Mum was here am sure she would have begged you to drop by and stay along with all of us at the Burrow, and if you were going to refuse, Dorise would have to carry big baskets of a huge meal, because she would think you would sulk and ignore and starve yourself to death…"

Grinning, Draco felt tears in his eyes, "I can guess, I remember the pig-headed Weasley owl coming with packages of homemade delights. I confess I did nick away Ronald's parcel once and found for the first time the magic in Late Mrs. Weasley's croissants...and I thought if I could make both our mums ever meet, I would definitely make my mother influence her to start her own bakery...um… well, George, Astoria might lack in that department, well I shouldn't be saying this... Both Daphne and she would sneak into the kitchens and loved to experiment around behind their parents back. Astoria is a quick learner though and if Daph could have her way, she will dig her little fingers into anything that is sweet."

Sitting up with some difficulty, Draco managed to say the inevitable," George, you all should leave, Dorsie told me that the floo connection with the Burrow is set up already. You better go on. I would rest as well, I would like to be left alone. I will send a word once I feel better. And there is something I wish to give to Astoria if you don't mind?"

" Draco, I understand, I will go and inform the others. I don't mind you giving…"

"No, you don't get it. They are just essential items since she…"

George Weasley had blushed and vigorously bobbed his head," Oh! Yes, why of course, thanks anyways, I really didn't think much...I would like to pay for…"

Draco had huffed," Weasley we don't pay back when someone is giving you wedding gifts! Seriously, man, you don't have to turn in a prune for that!"

George found Astoria and Ginny standing outside the door. His new wife's features were guarded. She stood an arm away fromGinny who was first to ask, "What does he want? What did he say?" Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the man mumbled," He wants you to come along with us to the Burrow and he would like to be left alone, he wants to rest." His sister stammered, "What? But…" Astoria nodded and said, " That's how Draco works if he has too many things breathing down his neck...a little space, might do good to both of you…"

Ginny looked longingly at the closed door then back to Astoria and George. Confused, she asked," Is he throwing me away?" Stepping up to her, George held her in his arms and whispered loud enough for both women to hear," If he can have his last say, Ginny, he will tail you even to your graves. Like Astoria said, just give yourselves some space to see things through, I think you will realize a lot of things. Now come on, let's go home."

Ginny had walked back to the study, when George had turned to his wife and found her shaking, hugging half tight by wrapping her thin arms about her waist. Placing his hand on her shoulder he tried to find words to address her then smiling down at the baffled weeping woman he said, "Mrs. Astoria Weasley, shall we go home?" the woman had flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, she wailed." Why did it happen? Why isn't mum and dad here anymore? Why isn't Daphne speaking to me? Why? Why? Tell me. Please, I never dreamt of such a thing. So many died, so many families just…"

As the husband held his wife tight within his arms, wondering about the same things, beyond the closed door Malfoy whimpered and waited for them to leave. Ginny stood by the half-open study door, staring at the couple, realizing Astoria Greengrass Weasley was at the end of the day a frightened witch just like herself.

Draco heard the aurors leave and then the floo connection in the study activated. It took just a couple of moments for the whole house to go deadly quiet. Burying his head into his plush pillows, he cried his heart out. He missed his mother, he missed his house, he missed his Hogwarts dorm room, he missed playing Quidditch and having fun with his fellow Slytherins, he missed the quietness of the library too, but above all, he missed his wife.

Before leaving him alone, George Weasley had asked him, "What is the name of your business?"

He had looked back with glassy eyes and proudly declared," Red, after the colour of my wife's hair."


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 27**

It started as an eerie whisper as if Basilisk was speaking to him through the pipelines. All he could see around was gothic frames surrounding him with the fragments of veil swaying in the wind blowing from over the river of Hell. Unseen forces were pushing and pulling him towards them. As if he was this ragdoll and children of Death were playing sinister playground games with him. Losing his foothold, he propelled towards one of them. The veil shifted inviting him to fall free through the ominous sheer curtain, over the threshold. A voice blood curdling and chilly called him incessantly, "Harry Potter, I know you, I am waiting, come to me, come, boy, in life we were never separate. I enjoyed living in your mind...such naive tendencies." The veil swelled up, his own face inches away, the forces around pushing him. Before he could think of a spell, a face appeared through the mesh….

Yelling into the night, Harry Potter had sat up, waking his young wife as well. Luna had just stared at him with her large innocent eyes. She did not venture to ask a single question. Nor was he in the shape to say a word. Nightmares of Voldemort alive and coming for him were recurrent and real. He had gathered her in his arms and cried softly. She still said nothing, but her hands had automatically wrapped around him and stroking his back, she started humming a lullaby.

It was the second night after they had arrived at this scared clearing in the Black Forest. As he sniffed he thought, chiding himself in his mind, he wasn't going to be mollycoddled. He had forcefully extracted himself from her petite arms and held her down on the bed. His eyes were burning and his blood boiling. Luna just kept staring back at him gauging his shifting emotions bracing herself in the process. Yes, he did crash against her like high waves of a dangerous ocean. His lips that kept on descending on her like meteors from the sky, his fingers had drawn out trenches on her pale soft skin like soldiers preparing before a bloody battle. He had taken her mercilessly, ignoring every subtle sign, that she was perhaps frightened of his mad conquest for burying his shadowy past. He didn't remember much of it later on though.

The next morning, he woke up to an empty bed and heard the shower in the bathroom. The door was left ajar. Tying the discarded sheet around his hip, he padded up to the threshold. The sight had torn him. There she was standing right under the shower, holding her hair to one side, letting the water cascade over her bruised back. It was peppered with marks, scratches, and fingerprints, angry and red. His hand flew to his face, his eyes bulged out, but his efforts could not muffle his cry. She must have heard him for she had half-turned and with a soft smile had extended her hand to him. Still, Luna had the goodness left in her heart to welcome a butcher like him. He had gracelessly scurried to her. Holding her in his arms he might have cried if she had not made love to him.

Toweling each other dry, they had shared the very first kiss that didn't have a touch of hesitance. They were perhaps finally standing in the middle of a bridge as equal participants, or perhaps they had arrived at a decision. This was their life now, a journey they were going to make with two toddlers in toe, who will learn the ways of the world by imitating their actions alone. Luna could now read him like a book. She had halted his rising apologies with another sheering kiss and whispered mischievously, "I realized thunder needs to have the element of shock or else its name is an utter shame."

He could only smile mused at her odd way of accepting his harshness. It was now among many of her growing habits. Tilting his head, standing on her toe tips, she kissed his scar with effect. He would not tell these things to anyone. Much like Luna had taken to glamour his wild display of affection, he would shade her eccentric ways of expressing love and affection. As he watched her feeding Ted from a bottle, of course blabbering about some fictitious tale- Harry alias, Mr. Claysmith smiled down at Theodora who was gurgling once again, trying hard to grab at his nose. Aunt Dora was perhaps right. He could allow his heart to love this idyllic life, he could allow himself to consider this hastily put together puzzle called family as his very own. He could start considering falling in love with his wife. He could perhaps start a family of his own… A moment in the darkness of the waning dusk and steadily creeping night caught his attention. Over the edge of the clearing right beside the thick trunk of an ancient tree, a huge shadow of what could only be a wild beast sat still. From the porch, Harry saw it's yellow eyes staring back at him. He knew the door was open behind him. He knew this property was heavily warded. His mouth moved on its own as he resettled the baby girl in his arm and stood up. Slowly he motioned at Luna who was sitting on an armchair not even two feet away. Flicking his eyes at the unknown watcher from behind the parameter, he could hear himself asking his wife, "Schwarze Nacht?"

* * *

A moment back she was fast asleep and the next her eyelids opened to meet the surrounding darkness like an old friend. Only the ceiling looked much closer and foreign. She twisted her legs. There was a heavy warm blanket over her. And below that! Startled at this embarrassing discovery, Pansy had sat up on the single cot. Holding her head in her hands she chanted in her head," okay! Relax, I might have got drunk, slept with some random guy...guy..g...Neville Longbottom." The sound of soft snoring came from her left. Turning her head crawling a bit closer to the furthest edge of the small bed, she was truly surprised. It was indeed Neville Longbottom. Lying sideways on a makeshift couch that was somehow squeezing into the room. The man was fast asleep with his wand held tight in his fist over his bare chest.

She looked up to find many small magical lights hovering near to the low ceiling illuminating the room with a soothing tinge of blue. She ventured closer to the sleeping man eyeing his wand warily. Fragments of an absurd dream flashed behind her eyelids. Neville Longbottom in a filled bathtub, panting, grunting groaning and holding her, rocking her hip over his groin submerged underwater. Or was it her riding him like a woman without a drop of inhibition. Who on earth does that in a small…? Well, at least it did sound quite a thrilling adventure.

"Oh yes! A thrilling adventure, you did drain me out thoroughly, Mrs. Longbottom." His voice had startled her hard enough that she had toppled out of the narrow bed on the other side. Still disoriented she tried to get up, but he had appeared over the top of the bed and easily picked her up and settled her in front of him on the covers. She tried to stammer a fitting answer, but the way he was looking at her in this strangely illuminated room caught her off guard. She huffed as he smiled goofily," What? Stop staring!" when her hands had hastily brought up the fallen blanket over her bare skin, he stopped her. Staring at her eyes, he threw her a challenge," I bet you too wouldn't be able to stop yourself from staring if you see how you look right now."

With a wave of his hand, he had lit at least a dozen candles around the room. Still looking at her, he gestured to her to look at herself. She saw her arms first. Instead of angry and raw claw marks, she was covered with thin lines that shone with a dull white tinge. She was about to remove the blanket once again when the man sitting in front of her shifted. Turning around, swinging his long legs off the bed, he stood up and walked up to the window, whose blinds were drawn shut. With practiced moves, he opened it and allowed the moonlight to flood the room with a burst of calm illuminance.

He would always remember how his wife had squealed like a small girl. She had stood up on the bed and had whirled round to inspect those shining thin lines that had successfully replaced the reminders of Greyback's perverse handiwork. Only not was Neville successful in ousting the werewolf from his wife's life, he had also managed to claim her as his own. Though "claim" was not the word he would like to use, he was not a beast. He was a man who had grown to care for the woman now weeping on his bed, in his own room and he of all the people in this magical Britain, or what was left of it was married. He watched her reflection cast on the glasshouse next to the window. _She was shining like a Christmas tree!_ he would have smacked his head, _She was shining like the night sky that witnessed the largest meteor shower and there was no stopping it._

Reflections are mostly distorted because the husband had failed to see that he too was being studied by his astonished wife. The man standing by the window facing away, giving her all the privacy to inspect her. Something she could put aside till she had dashed to the nearest washroom. The pain was gone. That beast, the werewolf was no longer speaking lewd words in her brain. Every inch of her being was cleansed and bathed with a fresh burst of hope. She was free. Free from the constant fear of approaching doom, free from scars she would never grow to accept, free from misfortune. All of this was due to the man standing like a stone statue, looking out of the window. It was as if for the first time she was looking at him. He was wearing loose trousers of sorts dark in color. But the rest of him was bare for her eyes to scrutinize. Sadistic wipe marks crisscrossed his skin. At places, there were puncture wounds that have either healed or were still healing.

Pansy thought," How much pain could those have caused him? Was there a way to measure the degree of pain?" Neville on the outside had closed his eyes. He was crying quietly, celebrating this success of epical proportion. Not a Granger, a Potter, a Weasley, a Malfoy had done the impossible and lived to tell the tale. Even killing Nagini was not combined with such a burst of pure joy. Watching Voldemort disintegrate into dust was not so comforting as it was to watch Pansy smiling and twirling. Even if he could manage to watch her reflection, it was a gift of sight he would like to hold on to. Because this was his success story. Neville Longbottom, son of Alice and Frank Longbottom had succeeded in a way to push back Greyback tonight and a handful of hours He hoped even Blaise Zabini would be equally victorious. He allowed the silent tears of joy to fall free. Till her soft hands touched his stiff shoulders.

Bereft of the real pleasures of a family, hungry for love and affection, fed up with the world pushing him around like a second-hand cloth, the tall man had turned and hugged his wife. He knew she would very soon push him off, slap him, or mock him or even call him names. But for this handful of moments, he could live in this small bubble of illusion that he too had someone to hold on to, under the thick veiled of the night, away from judging eyes. He did not expect Pansy to cry along. Neither did he expect her lips to shower small tender kisses all over his face, nor did he imagine her to whisper right next to his ears and heartfelt "Thank You."

Holding her in his arms, he had leaned back, till his head rested on the cold glass. Watching her from this close he marveled how her skin glittered as a million bokeh sewed together. She was starting to grow uncharacteristically self-conscious. If it aroused him, he decided not to act on it. He would like to make her see the real him, make her fall hard for him, make her crave for him before seeking an excuse to sleep with her again. But before that...in a swift motion, he bowed down and captured her startled lips. Kissing her languidly, basking in her growing acceptance, relishing her moans, catching her breath, and filling his lungs with it, Neville realized how futile was his plan of self-restraint. He was addicted to her now. And unknowingly Pansy had turned him into her prey and not the other way round. Releasing her abrupt he chuckled when she protested. Bringing a single finger and placing it on her pouting lips he murmured huskily, "I am tired of hearing the word "thank you". Instead, I feel you can give me a kiss each time you wish to offer you heartfelt compliments, Mrs. Longbottom."

He left her hot, yearning and aroused by the window. Vanishing the couch he had been sleeping in, he walked up to the door and opened it. Turning halfway he called out to her playfully" You have been sleeping for the whole day. If you feel up to it, I can draw you a bath, and fix a quick meal. You are still healing and you have potions to drink. In case, you need me, feel free to walk into the kitchen."


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters. This chapter is a bit dark, read with caution.

* * *

**Chapter 28**

_(Only when Blaise had heard her reply, "I will if you show me how not to hurt you," did he start shaking with relief, joy, and rare determination. He will save her, he will keep her and at the end of all this, he will, if luck is on his side, tear open Greyback limb by limb. Murmuring in her red ear lobe, grinding himself against her belly, he had confessed one of his secrets, "La mia ragazza perfumo.")_

Even with the blindfold in place, with Blaise Zabini standing right next to her, Mrs. Lavender Zabini was too frightened to speak. She could hear people around her breath, and then something rolling on its own. Though her husband was constantly beside her, she could hear Greyback's voice getting louder inside her head, and deep down she shuddered thinking that the werewolf would definitely find her and kill everyone, destroying everything in the process.

Her husband had been by her all through the long walk from her room till this underground place he had brought her into. But she was also accompanied by the old spirits of the castle. Even in this place where she felt the air grow chillier, the damp from the stones around, rose to greet her burning skin and envelope her like a mother's caress, the foreboding sense of danger kept on growing. She could only grip harder at Blaisse's arm for support. But to her surprise, not even once did the man step away.

Blaise mumbled a prayer thinking it might reach his mother and faced Lavender. Putting his hands over her cheek, he watched her closely. Even in this enchanted barricade, she was ethereal. Even if her eyes were covered with his cravat her face, its softness, its feminine curve, her parted lips, her warm skin her blush, her lightly freckled nose and her stray strands of hair kissing her brow, which again accentuated the innocent eyes, made him gulp down with pleasure.

He had a plan, something he didn't wish to share it with anyone. Neville had given him the remedy, Shacklbolt had given him a place to safely carry on the ritual and the presence of Snape had fuelled his determination to see to it that he should fight hard to give his new wife a chance to escape Greyback's future assault. And his plan was one of the simplest ones. Make her feel him, make her remember his smell and his touch, make her hear his voice, and string up all of these sensations together and give the whole emotion his name. There was yet another thing that Blaise Zabini didn't show the other two men. The inner glass wall morphed as a one-way mirror!

Waving his hands gracefully, he allowed the million shower heads about them to start pouring water and bent down to capture his wife's lips. Lavender could already sense more than she could ever explain. The whole place was smelling of something deliciously floral. The sound of water pouring like a shower of a waterfall somewhere close. She felt his fingers skim over the thin material of her tunic. Self-conscious, she made an attempt to pull him off, but her hand collided with his absolutely bare skin. Greyback still yelling in her mind commanded her to reject such advances but her heart kept on reminding her, "this was Blaise, the most honest man, the most endearingly sensual person you have to honor to be with."

Zabini had picked up several skills while living among the crafty Slytherins. And the most prominent of them was the way to control one's senses. With his lips, and his fingers he continued to tease his wife, leaving little room for her to think rationally. He attacked every patch of her bare skin arousing her till a certain height but never pushing her off the brink. He kept the foreplay alive making sure to allow her to explore him at the same time. He would see to it that Lavender must remain oblivious to the presence of the remedial lotion added both into the circular bathwater and the pipeline attached to the showerhead. With the suggestive brushes of his hip, he had her at his mercy. Turning her roughly about, pinning her back against his front, he kept nudging her to take small steps forward, with one hand gripping her throat, squeezing it softly, making her realize tonight he was about to claim her right to breathe and allowing the other to languidly feel that swell of her breasts.

The man behind her, had turned everything into mush. Her mind was filled with thick monsoon clouds, Greyback's voice rapidly getting frail by the second. Her knees grew weak, her back was burning like fresh lava and for the first time in her young life, Lavender was thoroughly shocked to know, her whole body was peppered with thousands of erogenous points. Blaise was privy to the knowledge of their hidden locations and was determined to set each of them free tonight. Or perhaps enslave every shell of her body for the rest of her life. Her heart she thought was beating like a mad drum trying hard to touch him right behind her through her heaving rib cage.

His touch alone was so potent that even after being blindfolded, none of her other senses could register the fact that she was already wadding in knee-deep water, drenched from top to bottom by the constant flow of cascading streams of floral essence through further crippled her sense of smell. His hands had kept her hovering at the cusp of losing her consciousness. while the rest of him kept her awake by adding fire to her smarting passion and blowing hard over that spark at the pit of her stomach, and helping it climb up and turn into vibrant licking flames of desire.

As possessive as he could ever be, Blaise made certain he would make his trembling wife respond to his ministrations alone. He had snaked his hands around her body and had her bound to him. Indeed Lavender gasped time and again imagining her husband could have turned into a virile form of Devil's snare, that ghosted its tendrils over her steaming body, flicking, pinching, dipping and pulling, arousing her to the point of even forgetting her name.

He watched her break into pearls of sweat and watched how those millions of droplets of water kissed her skin initially and vanished through its many layers. As if they all had overwhelmed every fissure and every pour, soon he could no longer make a difference. He badly wanted to skin his teeth into her flesh that smelled like some euphoric drug, his tongue had ever tasted. But he would be patient for now. He waited for the moment with bated breath. Keeping his eyes open had turned into a herculean task because lavender was swaying with passion within his strong arms. Her hair tickled his bare skin, her moans had already started making love with his nerve ends and her back had kept on arching into his cushioning his throbbing heat, resolved to crumble his personal restraints. His whole body had started wiping for her. But he kept staring at the mirror surface, kept flicking his eyes on her body.

It started as a small itch. She had this nagging desire to scratch over her skin suddenly, but his arms and his legs had held on. Confused, she opened her eyes to find her barely holding both of their joint weight on all four limbs. Her eyes wide, her pupils inflated, she saw the flickering flames dancing on her iris stare back at her from the surface of the water lapping lazily inches away from the body. She saw, felt, and heard everything for a split second. In horror, she saw the gaping wounds ooze out, combined with the sensation of sheer pain she felt her cells had started to break, melt, fuse, ripe themselves apart, but above all of these she heard the agonizing howl of Greyback and she felt her deafening scream join it. Right at that moment, she felt torn apart, rather her insides sheared with one violent thrust of a glowering heat.

It would be the perfect way to get this done, Blaise thought, take her roughly, because she would still be under that alpha werewolf's hold, claim her with all his passionate brute force, because he was fighting a war for possession. Their first time together should be meaningful in many ways. He should succeed in healing her, he should ensure that she was safe from Greyback, he should be the one directly involved in healing her scars, he should make sure his wife must never again think of herself any less than his "La mia ragazza perfumo." Therefore if he was a dire-wolf and she was an infected werewolf, they should mate like wolves in the wild do! Impaling her with one firm thrust, he had forced her to fall forward and succumb under his weight, submerging her for a couple of seconds, he had pulled her up, sitting upon his knees, he allowed her to sink back and inevitably ensured he was buried deep inside her. He noticed then, he was trembling, his muscles were screaming with joy. Right there in front of his eyes, over the mirror surface of the inner wall of the glass enclosure, Mrs. Lavender Zabini was covered with blinding charades of moonlight. Every angry scar was glowing and stitching itself. He had howled, literally howled with pleasure, joy, and excitement, even if that came out as grunts announcing his approaching climax. He had one of his hands travel behind her legs to prepare her for the ultimatum, along with himself and with the other, he gripped her throat, pulling her chin up, wedging his sharp chin at the crook of her neck, he commanded," Look! Open your eyes and Look at this miracle!"

Overwhelmed He could only remember her screams of ecstasy. He had closed his eyes alone, the only bit of privacy he could often. He had claimed her soul, claimed his right to enjoy her body, and had made her heart sing along with his throbbing one. Collapsing finally, he managed to maneuver her close to the clear surface, allowing her to look at healing herself with delight. She had turned at face him with childish glee and had made the very first open gesture of kissing him without any inhibition. Her eyes were red, her skin flushed, her lips parted, her hair wet, with water still running down her like several thousand rivulets, eager to join the placid sea circling their feet.

She wanted to say so many things! Kissing him breathless, she tried to muster the courage of not crumbling down in tears and actually say something of gratitude but with a renewed horror, she saw the hair ends of her arms that were resting over his shoulders, grow on their own. Blaise could swear he had seen death inches away from his face, could now understand why Snape was so unsettled with the mention of werewolves. Though above all of it, he would vouch, he had succeeded in winning Lavender's heart. Because he would not have managed to survive the assault of a newborn werewolf transforming for the first time, if his wife who still had the lingering sense to flung him away before her bones twisted and grew, her back hunched, her angelic innocent face extended and transformed into a snort with a cruel jaw studded with sharp rows of teeth, which were eager to taste fresh blood.

The moment his back connected with the first glass enclosure, he thought hard and apparated himself right in between the cavity of the two barriers. He was aware that both Snape and Shacklebolt had transformed into their ferocious animagi form, he was aware of the heavy presence of several ancient spirits providing the large room their own protection. Determined to hinder Lavender who had already turned and stop her from following Greyback whom the spirits of the castle were already pushed away and digging their invisible claws into his magical core and hell-bent to kill him once and for all, Blaise Zabini turned into his animagus form. His last thought which penetrated through the other three alive beings amidst some thousand spirits conglomerating in a thick ceremonial circle around the room was, "Lavender I will be with you, in soul and spirit, in thought and in mind, in blood and fresh, with you, by you and in you, I shall exist."

* * *

A lone figure apparated directly at the open of the mouth of the cave hidden inside one of the gorges situated deep in the highland forests of Scotland. As he pushed his body through the fissure like opening, his own protective ward brushed against his brutalized body, making him dig his teeth in his lower lip. He spat angrily because he did not wish to taste his own blood, he would rather enjoy feasting on those who reduced him into this barely alive state of existence.

Greyback slid over the damp floor trying hard to catch his breath. It was by fluke that he had discovered this cave formation. After his own lair was ransacked by the forces of the Ministry of Magic and the existing rebanding members of the Order, this is where he took settle and plotted for a fitting retaliation. He still could not understand when did his plan start falling apart. Those wizards had started working once again, though he still couldn't understand how on earth did they get a whim of his clandestine moments. Hermione Granger, Ginerva Weasley even those damned Greengrasses had suddenly vanished from the surface of the earth. He was certain no matter where they hid that Brown girl, he would find her, no matter who protected that delicious Parkinson whelp he would definitely make her slave to his own perverse desires! Groaning in frustration he looked at himself. Though apart from that maddening pain that dragged him to bang his head in anger over any hard surface, physically he found no wounds over him. But then what of those thousands of claws digging into him scratching hard over his bones, ripping his muscles and flesh, tearing his veins and shivering his nerves?

Sounds of whimpers and muffled cries of panic from somewhere behind brought him back to his bearings. And in spite of his body ravished by brutal forces of the Unseen, Greyback managed a laugh. His sinister laughter echoed through the length and breadth of this underground cave connection making the entire region of Corrieshalloch Gorge vibrate with the unknown and seen monster.

Standing a little sure of himself the werewolf chuckled with glee as his own blood began to drip from his gouged out eye socket and his mouth," Well, Well, Well, all is not lost, I still have you all." As he lunged at a manacled Gregory Goyle, from the other end of the cave floor, Colin Creevey and Cormac McLaggen pulled and shoved at their own binds but their screeches of terror hardly went past the thick rags stuffed tight inside their mouths. Beside them, Millicent Bulstrode sat unaffected to the gruesome event unfolding right in front of her eyes. Her unseeing eyes still remained glassy, Greyback's hideous voice kept on running in a loop in her successfully imperioed mind," Make me happy, make me proud and I will give you the greatest gift of your life. Your task is to bring me an insider of the Ministry of Magic."

Hours ago, Greyback had left her at the nearest alley to the Ministry of Magic. The unsuspecting guards had let her in, the bored lower-level official had handed her a requisition form. Her name was truly fed into the process. When the master had brought her back, he was certain, the next time they ventured into the magical part of Britain, he would have a ministry official's throat within his clawed fist.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Sames as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 29**

Severus watched the mists over the glass walls clear out and looked at the Asiatic bear breathing hard right beside him.

_They both had taken turns to prowl around the double-walled glass enclosure making sure the two individuals inside, remained inside under all circumstances. At the same time, they made certain that the numerous protection charms that Blaise Zabini had laid remained intact. Though in reality, to their utter surprise, it was those thousands of lingering spirits of the people who were once brought in as slaves, tortured and tormented within these walls did most of the work. They heard the blood-curdling screams of Greyback and they also witnessed the rarest phenomena- spirits chanting in spiraling circles around the warded enclosure within which Blaise Zabini and his wife Lavender were sealing their marital bond._

_On several occasions, Severus panicked so did Shacklebolt, because the erratic thrusts of the magical fields kept on clashing angrily at the walls that separated them from Mr. and Mrs. Zabini. The potion master's own fear for werewolf hovered right over his skin and stuck to the back of his mental shield daring to slip past his calm exterior. As a ferocious panther, he had to work harder on keeping his emotions in check. The wails of Greyback had soon subsided, and with that, Snape noticed, how those red glowing claw marks over a prone body supporting itself on its four limbs started glowing brighter. He could ignore the sounds of wild coupling because he found no pleasure in it. He was more concerned about the two of his former students coming out of this mayhem alive and intact._

_His concern for Draco stayed rooted in the back of his mind. But the growing sense of overprotectiveness regarding Blaise Zabini overshadowed his thoughts strongly enough that he had impatiently sniffed the ground pawed the glass surface and growled at the watchful bear time and again. What Snape failed to notice, Shacklebolt revered in his mind the moment things were in motion. The ghosts of his ancestors, the spirits of the ancient and powerful "klou van vormverwisselaar" or "the Claw of Shapeshifter" were at work. They understood and had already recognized the perilous state Lavender and Blaise were in._

_As if a forest full of wild animals had descended on the alpha werewolf the moment he came in contact with the property wards set up in the periphery of the Hanging castle. Shacklebolt was certain the dark wizard could not reach the building physically, nature would stand in his way in the form of dense mists and high tides. But he had never expected so many spirits to join together and inflict such degree of torture on the beast. As he saw the whole picture unfold in his mind he prayed hard never to anger these ancient spirits. With his soul barely attached to his magical core, Greyback had disapparated._

_But neither Snape nor Shacklebolt could move an inch away from their spot. The glass walls were dangerously quaking now. The wind had picked up, the ghostly apparitions hovering round had started rotating and Snape had to cover a bit closer to the ground because for the first time he saw those skeletal faces with beads hanging around their what would have been slender necks! Strange sets of aura coming out of the translucent enclosure caught his eyes and both the veteran wizards watching on as thin sharp beams of moonlight radiated from what they both understood could only be a slowly healing Lavender Zabini._

_Then suddenly everything came down to a crashing halt. Both of them waited unable to decide whether to breach through the barrier and see for themselves if both the people inside are safe or save Blaise in case Lavender couldn't...A low growl followed by a something colliding roughly against the glass surface. This peculiar event was accompanied by something close to an ancient iron railing or bars collapsing all by themselves made the watchers' blood run cold._

With a loud explosion, the glass walls collapsed sending the older men, still in their animagi forms flying backward, till they knocked against the stone walls some feet behind. Shaking themselves, they stood up nevertheless. Though neither of them had to do much. A huge grey dire wolf stood right in front of them. But the animal was facing the magical cage that had miraculously appeared out of thin air. The sturdy old iron cage had successfully separated the bath area from the rest of the circular room. Though it was not the cage which made Severus Snape and Kingsley Shacklebolt swallow hard. Right across the thick iron bars was a huge snow-white aggressive werewolf. Zabini's voice jolted them back to reality. "Congratulations to us sirs, we have succeeded in not only completing the ritual, but we have also successfully banished Greyback from our grounds. I hope neither of you would back off now since all we had to do is watch my wife live through her transformation. It will be a long night."

* * *

Nesse Donnewolf climbed up the stairs nearly an hour later. She wanted Seasus to introduce his wife to her new surroundings at his own pace. The boy might have lived most of his life in a boarding school, but the spinster aunt knew, he didn't have any plans to settle so quickly. She had noticed how caring, loving, and tender he would become while handling this newcomer. She had to confess to herself at least, Daphne was a sweet soul. And she was bringing out yet another side of the forever boisterous nephew of hers.

The aunt had returned to her quarters first, after cleaning up the kitchen. She didn't mind if she was to sleep a little tonight. The woman was already planning on making something special for the cafe to sell as well as some small gift baked for regular patrons...the woman had smacked herself chiding under her breath," Hold you fire Nesse, steady!" They still had to figure out how they would introduce Daphne to the people of the town. This was a small place and in such small close-knit societies, everyone knew everyone.

Grabbing the small box that she had kept hidden under her clothes in the cupboard, she wiped off her tears and walked purposefully towards her nephew's room. She was about to knock on the frame, but finding the door open she peered inside. A soft sob rose from her heart but she managed to hold it within. Seamus was standing by the window with his wife standing next to him. The man was talking animatedly about splashing sea, the lone cliff edges that one could still see because the town was located right at the outer edge of a bay area and the lighthouse which was showing light to the ships that were still to return home. Nesse had heard those stories from her childhood, every child would have similar things to say. But the woman stood transfixed once she saw how the young wife was looking back at the boyish husband. Her eyes shone with wonder and such tender adoration, that the spinster woman felt ashamed of herself, she was the intruder here after all. In embarrassment, she closed her eyes shut but then she had to open them again.

Nesse Donnewolf watched in awe how the angelic girl had brought up her hand and had softly caressed Seamus's cheek, making the young man stop mid-sentence. In the flickering candle lights that lit half of the room, his blush was quite noticeable. He had brought his own hand up and had placed it over hers, rubbing his stubble cheek against her soft ones in the process. The caress was so beautiful that Nesse wished to capture this moment forever. Though she had to agree she could never master the means to capture the soft voice of Mrs. Daphne Finnigan when she parted her thin lips and whispered with reverence," Iris."

* * *

Ginny had stumbled through the fireplace in her familiar Burrow's living area. Following her, George and Astoria had walked in. But the irony lay in the fact that all three of them were so overwhelmed by all that occurred in the past few hours that they could not say a word to one another. Ginny had simply nodded at the awkward husband and wife and excused herself. without turning back she had made a beeline for her room. When both heard a door close shut somewhere above, Astoria's knees gave away from under her and sobbing hard she fell over the rug in a graceless heap. Beyond himself, George knelt beside her but couldn't bring himself to say a word in consolation. His own hand shook as he dared to place it over her trembling shoulder.

Astoria had turned her head back at him with such an open display of shock, desperation, plea, and desolation that the surviving twin had to swallow hard. Something within him broke and once again merged together with his thriving magic. Deciding then and there that he could not continue watching her crumble into dust, he put one of his arms below her knees and secured the other under her neck, then picked her up from the floor in one swift motion. Her hands had on their own accord found their way around his neck. She could not see much of her surroundings because her tears made it too hard for her to even look at her husband's face.

He had climbed up the stairs in a daze. His last conversation with Draco Malfoy had kept his mind occupied all the way up to his room, the one that he had for so long shared with Fred. Even after being purebloods, the Weasleys have always lived like free spirits keeping their heart, mind, soul, and the door to their home, open for everything, and everyone who ever desired a shelter. Draco Malfoy had strongly put across his point, for Ginny he was ready to sacrifice everything. The man had even gone beyond himself, established a business of his own, decided to toil hard to earn a new name and a new life. And instead of holding onto the aristocratic air that the word Malfoy always allured of, he had decided to call it "Red after the color of my wife's hair."

The Slytherins were regal even in their display of acute sentimentality. George had nothing of that grandeur to offer Astoria on the other hand. Realizing he had already walked into his room, he blinked a couple of times and looked down at Astoria gulping once to hide his embarrassment. He allowed her to slip off his arms, but hesitantly reached for her hands. Keeping his eyes trained over her white knuckles, he spoke in hushed whispers," I know you married me because you didn't have any other option," chuckling humorlessly he sighed," I don't really care why Shacklebolt or Thomas or who so ever it was, would make you, force you to marry me of all the people...I am not sure what I can offer you as well. Hell, I never thought of life without Fred by my side in the first place. But Mum would have wanted me to pull up my socks, Dad would have wanted me to become an honourable man. Ginny would need a brother to look up to in times like these."

He fumbled a bit finding it difficult to spell her name, looking away he blinked a couple of times because the woman standing in front of him was just staring back at him hanging by every word that had tumbled out of his mouth. Finally giving up he kept standing in front of her waiting for her to break through the growing silence now hanging heavily around them.

Somewhere outside birds started chirping, the clock downstairs chimed, an owl hooted, and his wife walked into his personal space and leaned over, resting her head over his heaving chest, she closed her eyes and sighed. She whispered right over his beating heart," I am not just a Slytherin, I am also a girl, I am not just a person brought up surrounded by luxury, I am also a person, and can you accept me, or at least acknowledge me as a person or as a girl?"

George had instantly brought his arms around her and had hugged her tight. He felt a shudder past over him as he dipped his head and brushed his cheek over her hair, which he noticed was a perfect shade of chocolate brown. With tearing in his eyes, he looked over to his brother's empty bed. He told himself, Fred would have wanted him to be happy, even if he was not coming back. Gulping down, he cleared his throat and smiling mischievously, he muttered," Welcome to George Weasley's humble abode, your highness, Mrs. Astoria Weasley."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

I would like to request everyone to read Chapter 25 once again. I went back and noticed to my dismay, I had uploaded a temporary file that only had half the content. Obviously, the most important bits went missing, leaving you all mutter, under your breath, "what the Hell is wrong with this writer!" As for the rest, wait for Snape and Hermione to have their conversation. The man will soon be back to Hogwarts.

* * *

**Chapter 30**

Astoria stiffened within her new husband's warm embrace. Having been brought up in the lap of wealth and luxury, she was privy to the horrors of the mind that hid under those expensive robes. None of those who lived among the two faces of the conspiring socialites would accept things at face value. She knew George would test her; she knew she too was not entirely prepared to accept him. But she was desperate to find her footing and the Weasley had just been the only pillar provided by her destiny to lean on.

Slowly extracting herself from his arms, she took a step back. She dared not to look at his eyes because Astoria was aware of one thing, George Weasley had one of the liveliest pairs of eyes in this whole world. Those mirthful orbs could make her swoon and drag her to partake on a joyride forgetting her purpose in life. She could not let that happen right at this moment. Though she confessed to herself, she would definitely look forward to a life where her husband would laugh and joke and love her with the same intensity the Weasleys were famous for.

As she hesitantly patted his heaving chest, she reasoned with herself _," Perhaps I am too depressed and exhausted, perhaps he means whatever he says, perhaps I too could explain my thoughts at this moment, but I cannot rush this thing. If I give in not, I will never have an equal say in this marriage."_

Clearing her throat, the wife had mumbled," I better go and check on Ginny. She was quite shocked by Draco's sudden decision to send her back with us. I will just go." She had walked past him, leaving George equally surprised. The girl was new to this family and there was nothing that could make her this concerned about his youngest sibling. He had turned to watch her retreating form, wondering how long it was going to take for him to understand this enigmatic woman. Astoria was like a fluid. She was firm when it required of her, she would smoothly flow into a myriad of roles like the undeterred flow of water. The man had blushed thinking and he would have to consummate this marriage with her, the sooner the better. How would that be like, especially hoe would that feel like?

* * *

Severus Snape had read of muggle hunters' personal experiences where brave men had to wait with their firearms for the wild animals to make an appearance. He could recall having read a piece where a celebrated hunter had to spend a night with a ferocious tiger prowling right under his makeshift shelter on top of a tree. But the reading of accounts of what others had experienced could never amount to the intensity of experiencing something similar at any given time. So what if he was in his animagus form, so what if he was aware that the huge fury Asiatic bear beside him or at times behind him, was actually the Minister of Magical Britain, the grand Kingsley Shacklebolt, so what if the equally strong and young dire wolf guarding both of them walking in tight circles around the strong circular cage just a handful of paces away, was his dedicated student Blaise Zabini? Behind his wavering mental shields, the potion master of Hogwarts, the double agent, the master spy, the prolific trickster who lied to Voldemort on his face, again and again, was shivering with fright.

Remus Lupin was not here to read a transformed Lavender Zabini's mind or guide her. And those bared rows of sharp teeth, those glowing red eyes could very well explain to him, the newborn werewolf did not appreciate being caged up. He watched in awe, how the chocolate brown dire wolf right in front of him continued keeping itself right in front of the werewolf's eyes. Blaise spoke back into both the older men's minds," I have made her aware of my touch, my signature smell, and right now that our bonds are sealed, I am trying to keep her focussed on me. Thus, I would request both of you to stay as still as you can, in your animagus form if possible, I know it is going to be tiresome, but if we all survive this night, we will be in a better position to deal with Lavender in future. After all, we need a werewolf on our side. And right now, she is our only option. "

It was indeed a long night. The snow-white werewolf would initially ramp against the strong bars of the cage and yelp away the moment her body connected with its surface. The three wizards surmised that it could be possible the cage through some mechanism was electrified or maybe it was the work of those spirits of the castle. She would growl like a hungry and frustrated beast, watching each one of them from the corner of her eyes. And with her, the dire wolf would pace about. If she would bark so would he, if she would sniff the air so would he, if she would lay down to rest for a well, so would he, facing her, keeping his eyes on her all the time.

Minutes turned to hours and the night turned into a new day, but everyone waited for Lavender to transform back into her human self. Even in those dreary long hours, Snape felt ill at ease. There was something else that required his presence, there was somewhere else he should have been already, but with what was happening in front of him, he could not take the risk of leaving at once to investigate his hunch.

It was around midday the wolf finally transformed back into the familiar form of the bubbly Gryffindor, Lavender. Barely capable of supporting her weight on her four limbs, the girl had managed to both cry and smile back at the rest of them. The magical cage too had vanished, enabling the direwolf to bark with joy and tackle the naked girl. The elders behind them too had tears of relief in their eyes and had turned their heads away to give the couple some privacy. But they soon had to rush back to the two of them. Lavender was whimpering and above her, prone and unconscious lay Blaise Zabini. The man had at least managed to transform back to his human form, after which his strength had given away.

Snape had swiftly discarded his robes and had placed it on the young woman's shoulders, and Shacklebolt had shoved his robes and wrapped it around the unconscious man. The Minister had picked up his nephew in his arms and together all four of them made their way up the spiraling staircase. Snape held on to Mrs. Zabini whose eyes had never left Shacklebolt's back.

Once reaching the couple's designated bedroom, the uncle had lowered his nephew's sleeping body gently on the bed and called for the house-elf, Elina. Even as the elf stood covering at a distance casting nervous glances at the young couple, Lavender took the moment to speak," Sirs, I can handle it from here. I think we both will just be sleeping it through."

She had offered a blazing smile to both the worried men, but Snape felt relieved when he realized how far this woman in front of him had matured from that teenage hogging excuse of a banshee fighting over an incapacitated Ron Weasley at the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. The man's name had once again made his heart clench, and he had to bow his head to hide his grimace.

The two men had left in the same way they had entered the castle. The minister once again apparated them to random places until they both had appeared in the minister's own country house. Tired, shaken, and exhausted the man invited Snape in and offered him a glass of firewhiskey, as he once again tried to get more information about Draco Malfoy. He had excused himself for a couple of minutes and left the potion master at the living room itself. Snape took the time to close his eyes and rest a bit. But the lingering sense of unease continued to build in his mind steadily. He had sprung to his feet and took to pacing, worrying himself. He went over the names of people he knew and tried to think of anyone who might have been overlooked or who had perhaps fallen prey to Greyback's random attacks. The wizards might have raided his Staghorn Lair, killed as many werewolves as they could, or they might have thwarted several such premeditated cases of kidnapping and random assassination, but people were missing, people were unaccounted for and they could not kill Greyback just like that. Something was keeping him alive.

For once the potion master was relieved, they could extract Theodora. Though most of the credit went to the very observant Andromeda who knew the means to save the toddlers and keep them far away from all these. To think that she was one of the Blacks was surprising on many levels. She could be as scheming as Narcissa and did have the nasty bent of a vindictive streak that made her more like Bellatrix if one would ignore their striking resemblance to each other. He wished to go and see Draco with his own eyes. The parentless boy was barely existing and he knew Ginny was too stubborn to think first and then speak. Surely those two were at each other's' throats the moment the Aurors had left them alone!

Snape could understand it was no longer Lavender or Pansy. He had specifically asked Shacklebolt to keep looking for every student that went to Hogwarts. He had also requested the minister to instruct the Aurors and Muggle Relations Department to look for sporadic cases of mysterious kidnappings as well as events of unexplained murders. He had read somewhere Greyback in his youth was a part of a circus caravan, that man surely knew how to hide among unsuspecting muggles. He had sat down once again when the fireplace of Shacklebolt's living room roared back in life and the man of the house returned.

Settling himself down, catching his breath, the Minister informed," My Aurors stationed at Red villa informs me that Mr. Malfoy did have a little accident last night. To be precise, during the wee hours of the day before yesterday. But now his conditions are stable. Mrs. Ginerva Malfoy had sought help from her brother and her sister in law, George and Astoria Weasley, and together, the three of them had managed to salvage the situation. It seems Mrs. Weasley had bitten off my Aurors heads. What did you exactly teach your Slytherins back in school? I would like to quote Mr. Richter's exact words," These Slytherins always have their fangs and split tongue ready for attack." though Ms. Brommore was complying enough to inform the more accurate details. "Mrs. Weasley showed remarkable steady nerves, Sir, she was in one hand healing Malfoy's burnt hand and on the other without even sparing more than a glance at both of us, she was telling us off, she made sense, if we were to put an official report, we would be dead meat by now." Shaking his head, eyeing Snape for one last time, the man got up from his armchair," Come along, let's go to Draco's Villa. Or else you would seriously mime me!"

Shacklebolt gestured to Snape to follow him. Though before he threw the floo powder, he tapped his breast pocket and informed," Received a letter from the goblins of Gringotts. I had to rope them in because they deal with the Muggle world on a daily basis. Their logistics and Gringotts own troop of guards are goblin trained. With their help, we can cover more grounds. St. Mungo's healers give encouraging news of the steadily recovering Mr. Bill Weasley and Mrs. Fluer Weasley. As well as they are certain Minerva would bounce back soon enough. Though she might have to use a cane in the future."

Snape could only smirk at the man in reply. He could see with his own eyes how beaten the man looked. He was sure, the next time this man would re-enter this living room, he would definitely fall face flat in exhaustion on this bear coat rug decorating the front of this rustic fireplace.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Please read chapter 25 in case you haven't already. The rest is the same as previous chapters, I am responsible for my AU and OCs only.

* * *

**Chapter 31**

In the emptiness of her old room, which she had on several occasions shared with Hermione Granger, Ginny stood transfixed by how suddenly this known little world of hers had turned unfamiliar and cold. She wrapped her hands around her waist trying hard to hold on to her body warmth. Even since Draco Malfoy walked into her life, he had caught hold of her entire universe and turned it upside down. She was afraid of this new unknown Malfoy, she was awestruck at his gentleness, his aloofness and his underlying longing for her had jolted her general belief system. His deafening scream and his burning hand were etched behind her eyes with such terrifying colors that the girl shook on her own each time she closed her eyes.

She had slowly turned and noticed Astoria standing at the doorway looking at her with sad eyes. When the youngest Weasley swallowed, the new sister in law of the family whispered loud enough for the other to hear," You know, while our parents mocked your folks, as blood traitors, spat at the mention of your names, we often wondered what fun you all would be having while growing up into such a large buoyant family. Draco was most jealous. During one summer holiday, he brought in both Blaise and Theo just to cheer up Daphne telling her she did have many brothers like the Weasleys. He always thought you all were rather lucky. Our mansions might be big, might be filled with paintings, talking portraits, and expensive collectibles, we might have hosted parties every other weekend, but none of them could ever compete with the innocent banter of the Weasleys."

Ginny could think of nothing worthwhile to say in reply so she continued to stare at her. The woman in front had bowed her head and continued," It is a shame that this house lacks the echo of those happy voices. But I believe Headmaster Dumbledore used to say, "But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." I don't know from where or when Blaise heard that bit, but he did have his secret ways of noticing the best in everyone. Like I was saying, Ginerva, all we are asking from you all is just one chance." Running her palms over her dress robes, Astoria inhaled deeply and asked," Would you like to have something warm? And then perhaps you could sleep in a bit? I am sorry if I am sounding a bit forward, I just thought you might because Daph," her voice choked at her sister's name, but she cleared her throat nevertheless," she would always have something warm and then lay down a bit when she would get upset..."

Ginny shook her head in dismay and smirked back," Do you always blabber and blush when you are tad self-conscious? Beware, my brother will have a field day, if he gets to know of this weakness of yours." She was quite satisfied to see the woman at her door gap back like a dead fish. Shaking her head once again, she got up and walked up to her wardrobe. Bringing out some fresh clothes, she walked back to her and held them out," Here, if you don't mind you can wear some of my clothes," flicking her eyes all over Astoria's simple attire she scrunched her face," These don't do much justice to you anyways."

As the other person continued to give her a quizzical look Ginny tried to jest," Look, I don't know where Mum is right now, but something tells me I shouldn't look forward to her howlers from the other side of the veil…" Astoria had grabbed her mid-sentence and hugged her tight. As the eldest Greengrass sister continued sobbing hard, Ginny bit on her bottom lips till it started aching with dull pain and couldn't stop herself from shedding some more tears. She looked up in time to see, George standing near the door this time watching both of them, blinking hard to hide his own tears.

They had all gone down to fix a quick breakfast. The Weasleys kitchen, as she had already noticed during her last meal, was haphazardly stocked, but felt quite lived in. Astoria marveled at that singular feeling. Ginny had kept watching her, throughout the meal and was quite taken in by her composed nature. It seemed to her that the woman could harness this utterly calm feature giving out no hint to the others watching her, about the fact that just moments ago, she had been crying her eyes out. She always thought Slytherins were more concerned about their physical appearances. But even in these simple dress robes, which were definitely either borrowed or handed down by someone, Astoria continued to radiate with confidence, as if her recent break down was nothing but a sad dream.

As soon as the meal was over, out of habit both George and Ginny had picked up their plates and walked up to the kitchen sink, and Astoria had just followed suit. Ginny had smiled good-naturedly. Pointing her wand at the stairs, she had accioed the bundle of clothes she had selected for the woman and rolled her eyes at George, chiding the brother in the process," Georgie, Please!" Astoria had to muffle her giggles by pressing the bunch of clothes over her mouth as her thoroughly embarrassed husband trudged ahead of her up the many crooked stairs of the Weasley's Burrow.

With the dishes done and the kitchen cleaned, Ginny climbed up the stairs to find George sitting on the top of one that overlooks the bathroom. The brother was staring at the small silt below the door through which a thin slice of light was illuminating the hallway. Whacking his head playfully, she sat next to him and leaned on his shoulder.

"You know, it is like all of them were behind a foggy glass, and Voldemort and that werewolf suddenly came from nowhere and broke it into pieces. I don't recognize any of them."

Rubbing his hand over his face, feeling his ghosting stubble, the brother replied," Neither do I Gin, I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that these Slytherins can truly be this well behaved if they decide to peel off the layer of snobbish attitude and blood supremacy propaganda."

Peering back at him she had nudged," You both haven't yet…"

Too embarrassed, George just nodded back," No."

Getting up and walking back to her room which was in the same landing, Ginny spoke over her shoulders," George, I think she is as lost as anyone one of us. She is family now, you know?"

The brother had turned and arched his brow and tried hard to imitate Draco Malfoy," I think I too can safely say the same thing for the blonde ferret." Ginny had slammed her door hard. And the brother enjoyed that moment like good old times, railing up Ginny was always fun, till Bill and Charlie took it upon themselves to teach her those nasty jinxes. He realized he was still to hear from Charlie and wondered how he was doing. He had to even contact St. Mungo's to get updates on Bill and Fleur. Chuckling dryly he muttered, "That's what is always expected from the man of the house, Georgie!"

* * *

Dorsie was well acquainted with the formidable godfather of her master. Thus the moment the man had stepped out of the fireplace at the study, where she was currently cleaning, the elf had tsked her tongue and had led both the minister and the potion master to Draco's current bedroom. If Malfoy had stiffened at the sight of his livid godfather, Shacklebolt noticed the man could hide it quickly enough. He along with Dorsie watched from across the room how Snape had rained down over the young man.

"What were you thinking, you dunderhead, imbecile, the excuse of a man, a consummate idiot! How often have I told you, this dark mark will never go away. If I knew the way to get rid of it, don't you think I would have helped you first of all the people!" turning abruptly at the elf, Snape had barked," Dorsie, would you please get Mrs. Malfoy…" when the elf had looked back and forth covering away from Snape, gazing stupendously at her own master, Draco had supplied," She is not here, I sent her away to the Burrow."

Snape had huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to come back with a scathing comment but, Malfoy had cut in," I had to! Don't ask me any more questions, it is private and personal, and no, before you try to explain to me this bloody marriage thing, I know, okay, I am well aware. I am telling you I did everything to keep her safe. She is safe. She needs some time to get a grip over the situation. Understand for my sake, all of us can't adapt to situations in the same way you do!" Shaking his head, he looked back and commented," By the way, I have got one of your assignments ready," looking once at Shacklebolt, he mumbled, "as for the others I will get to work as soon as my arm has healed up," when Snape had snarled back, he exclaimed," I will get ample of rest and I won't push myself, I swear, on my mother's grave!"

Draco had spared a seething look at the elf but ordered her to bring the jewelry box laying on his work desk at his workshop. After the elf dutifully got it and handed it over to Snape, she popped out knowing fully well, her master would make sure to punish her as soon as the visitors had left. Pointing at the velvet box, Malfoy added, " I did whatever you asked for, I hope Granger does not throw it in the fireplace on learning I made it in the first place."

Smirking back at his godson, slightly, while transferring the item into his robe pockets, Snape assured, "No she won't and she is no longer Granger. She is Mrs. Snape." But then his face had morphed back in a grimace which neither Draco nor Shacklebolt missed noticing. The minister spoke up," what is the matter, Severus, I have been noticing you getting agitated for a long time? I thought it was due to Malfoy…"

Shaking his head, Snape tried to ease off the growing tension," I thought as well, I guess, I am just too exhausted to carry on...if that will be all, Kingsley, I would like to return to Hogwarts immediately. It has been nearly a day and a half I have been away."

Understanding the man's hidden plea, the Minister had confirmed," We both can use Mr. Malfoy's floo connection since we are registered as his immediate contacts along with the Weasleys." The potion master had turned to warn the young man, but Draco beat him to it," Please leave, you look like shit, I promise, I will be just fine, and remember I do have an independent-minded elf called Dorsie to tell on me any time!"

* * *

It hit him like an array of sharp knives the moment Severus Snape had tumbled back into his private study through the open floo connection. The door to his bedroom was open, the door to his study which led to his office, and then to his classrooms was consecutively thrown ajar. And neither Hermione nor Fawkes was around. His quarters were alarmingly quiet. In rising dread and consumed by pure panic, he allowed his mental shields to crash down and transformed into his animagus form.

He would later thank Merlin profusely because it was rather coincidental that a full-grown panther had bounded over the cold stone floor in broad daylight through the ancient castle and not a soul had seen him leap up the stairs with such finesse. Of course, the portraits had screeched and wailed in panic, but he cared the least for those dead people. He was equally thankful to the sentient castle for making the sliding stairways align perfectly to allow him to dismount on the corridor where the famous Hogwarts Library was located. He had occasionally sniffed the air. His heightened sense of smell led him right in front of the grand wooden door, her scent was strongest at that point, whiffing in abundance from the other side of the barrier.

Nudging the door open with a push of his head, the beast had padded inside watchful of his surroundings. Cocking his head in one direction, he had quickly made his way through the ancient bookshelves, sprinting with renewed energy. He could see her now, sitting at a desk surrounded by at least a score of books, and Fawkes dutifully perched up on the back of another empty chair. Letting out a low growl, Snape had leaped on his wife, tackling her down in the process, toppling her chair and scattering some of the previous tomes on the floor.

Granger had let out a piercing scream, making him immediately come back to his senses. He took just a couple of seconds to transform back into his human form, gathering her up in his arms paying little attention to her protests, purposefully walked out of the library, ignoring the phoenix's presence. Granger did have a capacity to hurl powerful punches, but the girl had finally looked back at his face and gasped. The man continued chanting in his mind," she is safe, Merlin she is safe, she is safe, she is safe,' as he had hastily made his way back to his rooms.

Though the moment his legs brought him within his study, his knees had given away. Stumbling up to the burning hearth, he had dropped down, still holding on to his young wife. He didn't have much mental strength to analyze whether he was happy to see her unharmed or whether he was just glad that she was spared from Greyback's claws, or whether he had yet again stood in front of a newborn werewolf for a span of an entire night and had lived to tell the tale. With Hermione still held close to his chest, he hugged her tighter and finally broke into sobs.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 32**

Surrounded by the familiar setting of the Hogwarts library, Hermione Snape had got carried away with a series of new information she was getting her hands onto. She had looked into these particular sections of mysteries of magical creatures when the potion master had hinted at the presence of a werewolf in the school. And perhaps when she was looking for clues on basilisk. Fawkes's constant double-edged statements had her question every page of that innocent muggle children's folktales. It was rather coincidental that she would walk out of the heavily warded quarters in the dungeons and wander straight up to the library. Madam Pince was absent. But even then she could stroll among the old bookshelves and browse through them lazily.

She had no clue for how long Severus would be gone. For most parts of the first day, she had slept and read and eaten what all Pin, the dedicated elf, had brought for her. She had continued to feel his emotions, though they were not too loud, those lingering pangs of guilt kept her disturbed. It took some time for her to understand, even if the man emitted the barest of emotions, underneath his stoic mask, he was more than affected by any given situation. He was empathetic.

Those rising tension and coiling fear accompanied her all through the night, keeping her awake, with only to stare back at the greenish lake water and those marine dwellers gliding in and out of the concave glass screen in place of the ceiling. The phoenix left her much to herself. It allowed her to mull over the stories, till she found herself sitting near the fireplace, watching the last log burn out thoroughly.

It was by accident that she had discovered the door did respond to her touch, clicking open for her curious eyes, enabling her to take a peep into the man's study. She dared not to touch any of those black tomes, and took account of the fancy decanters lined up at a corner table containing several measures of amber liquid. She took in the sight of an unlikely ornate glass cupboard that had rows of potion vials labeled and lined up. It took her awhile to understand what looked like a haphazard arrangement was actually organized according to practical needs. It was common sense, one would want dittany and blood replenishing potions and pepper up and headache reducing potions more often than perhaps, lotions to address sudden bouts of skin rashes.

But nothing could override her thoughts about the "big bad wolf", "the girl with a red riding hood" and her own assumptions of it being connected somehow to either Greyback or Professor Lupin. When she had tried sharing her thoughts with the magical bird, Fawkes had stared at her oddly and since then had been ignoring her. It trailed behind her like a duty-bound guard, watched her breech through every security ward but neither stopped her nor warned her. If she thought the bird was aware that the castle had been somewhat safer this morning than it had been since she had arrived, she kept that information to herself.

She could not recall if it was the subtle hints all over those ancient texts about the old folklores being far gruesome than its innocent childish versions or it was that growing sense of unease which by now, she had started referring to Snape's emotions. But as the present morning started turning into a warm noontime, his thoughts were crashing against her mind, making her shudder inwardly. Then at once, it all went quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, massaging her temples, Hermione had just flipped open the next tome about magical creatures of ancient Eurasia, when from the corner of her eyes she saw something large and shining black pounce on her. Her very last thought, as she found herself getting thrown back on the fall and pinned absolutely under a full-grown panther, was "Severus Help!"

Now, the very man was holding her tight and sobbing hard into her hair. And his mind was completely exposed for her to see all the horrors he had witnessed for hours put together. His memories had come up in jumbled up puzzle pieces. The oldest had a trapdoor half open and the face of a growling werewolf, whose claw had nearly missed his face looking back at him in anger. And she could even make heads or tails of the newest once. Just his rolling fear was enough to make her aware whatever he was forced to witness was not healthy. She could catch hold of the image of Lavender and saw it getting morphed into the image of a wild snow-white werewolf time and again. It took just a couple of seconds to join the dots in her mind. She gasped, fear gripping her throat tighter than her husband hugging her against his quaking body," Lavender?"

Her soft and horrified voice had brought him back to reality, easing her off his lap, he had checked her just to be sure she was safe and unharmed. He tried hard to form some meaningful words. Waves of nausea forced him to push her aside with force and make a dash for the bathroom through the quarters whose walls were now swaying in front of his eyes. She took only a handful of minutes to gather her wits before running behind him, till she reached the threshold of the bathroom and was shocked to see him wrecking mercilessly into the toilet, bent double and barely managing to keep himself upright on his weak knees.

Fumbling initially, the young wife had rightfully, grabbed a wash towel, got it adequately wet from over the washbasin, and had kneeled right beside her husband. She didn't think twice, before gathering his long unruly hair off his face and holding them together at the nap of his head. When his spasms had subsided a little, and he was keener to taking deep breaths, she had let go of his hair and concentrated on drawing soothing circles on his hunched up back. When he stopped coughing finally, she had quietly passed him the wet cloth. But in shame, Snape had turned away from her and scrubbed his face clean. He had chosen to withdraw from all her advances once again and had politely asked her to leave and wait outside.

As he watched her feet pad over the wet stone floor and saw the edge of the door swing shut softly, Severus lay down flat on his back. He wouldn't dare try to get up, since still now it felt like the whole world was swinging about. Concentrating on his steady breath, he thought of something other than, his soiled clothes, and the water soaking into them.

Hermione was safe. Harry, his wife Luna, and those children including Andromeda were hundreds of miles away from all these. Whatever Blaise did was successful in pushing away Greyback. There were many Hogwarts students who were unaccounted for. Draco was lucky to get married to Ginerva Weasley, but he was still to find love. Shacklebolt was exhausted, still, he continued to push himself trying harder every single minute to make ends meet for all of them. But he would have to take a break and someone else will have to temporarily take over. He alone could not do that. But with a trusted team perhaps he could just manage for a couple of days, give the giant man some time off to officially mourn his daughter's death and to be at his wife's side.

A team of formidable witches and wizards with sharp minds. He already had Neville Longbottom working with him. He was expected to come down to Hogwarts soon. Neville would like to confer with him on the mass production of that advanced variant of wolfsbane potion. They could commercially produce it later on after they had dealt with Greyback for good. But now, they needed to keep this whole product hidden away from the press. It was not safe to pull out Blaise from the Hanging castle right now. In that case, he needed Bill Weasley, not only because he was a victim of Greyback's attack, but both the men tended to think in similar ways.

He needed Minerva back beside him if they were going to take the Goblins seriously. He wouldn't dare push those shrewd money lenders aside. He knew very well, goblins were the most important quotient working constantly to keep both the muggle and the magical world contained and satisfied all by themselves. If Griphook by himself had contacted Shacklebolt, then they were eager to get involved. Amidst all of this, he was counting on George Weasley as well. Those twins had a capacity to constantly include the element of surprise even making him eat his own words. Seamus Finnigan had proved to be a diligent auror… turning to his side, he gradually sat up, testing his strength, he caught hold of the washbasin and the toilet seat and pulled himself off the floor. Carefully turning on his foot, mechanically started pulling off his clothes, when he felt something heavy bang against his thigh.

Bringing out the jewelry box, he flipped the cover and mutely gazed down at the pendant and the single gold and silver string coiled around it. Snapping it shut, he gently kept it over the counter and finally peered at his reflection in the mirror right above the washbasin. Long back, he had banished magical mirrors from his quarters. Smirking at his own reflection he muttered under his breath," beast in plain clothes." As he managed to shrug off the last bit of his cloth and lowered himself into the automatically filled tub water, there was a knock at the bathroom door and Hermione's voice floated in.

"Um, May I come in, I..well...I just need to say something…"

Drawing the curtain so that just his face was visible, Severus spoke out a little louder," Enter."

This time he noticed that she was wearing a comfortable dress and had her hair ties into a single ponytail. She had brought with her some of his potion vials as well. "Um, I thought you would need these, I am keeping it over this ledge."

Snape just nodded back, and after some time enquired, "What was your question, Miss Granger?"

Her eyes had shot up and Severus did notice a small blush appear on her cheek, but the then the girl had schooled her features, leaning against the washbasin she started talking," I have been doing a lot of reading and researching, though I really don't know how I managed to get out of this bedroom in the first place, well, anyways, It was Fawkes, who insisted that I read Grimm Brothers fairy tales. And I really don't know how to explain it to you, well you see it was Fawkes who put some unhealthy emphasis on the story red riding hood. And…?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, sliding further into the lukewarm water, he barked out irritated," Enough." Looking up, when he saw how his word had deflated her newfound enthusiasm he decided to ease things out. This was a strange place to half a conversation but he was aware, Hermione had the advantage of feeling his emotions as well as reading his thoughts in case he wasn't paying attention to his shields.

"It is the bond that allows you to access parts of the castle, but, you will have to promise you are not going to take undue advantage…" Cutting him mid-sentence she had shot back," I would never! You can have my word on it!" Giving her a long measured look he began once again," Tell me what you have understood so far. Don't worry, I have had the pleasure to teach you for the last seven years, I can fish out the important words from all that you will blabber in a span of a second. Begin!"

* * *

Lying flat on the rug between the two single beds, George tried to catch his breath, as he felt with his stretched hand over the mattress inches above his head and dragged down the blanket. Shaking it once, he threw it over both of their bodies and mumbled," Sorry, I don't know what came over me...I didn't...I am really sorry."

Astoria's soft voice filled the room. "There is nothing to apologize, well we had to and we were running out of time. I, on the other hand, would wish to apologize."Surprised, George had rolled on his side and propped his head on his elbow and looked down at her," Whatever for?"

She had looked up at him and then back to the ceiling," You had to find out, that I...well, I…" sniffing once, she went quiet. George noticed a single tear roll over her right eye and took the liberty to brush it off with his thumb. Swallowing hard, he whispered," Those scars on the inside of your…"

"Thighs, yes, technically I might have remained a virgin, but he had robbed me of my virginity in every other way!" she had snarled back, but George had just gathered her back into his arms and rocked her slightly. She did try to push him off but he only held on to her firmly. "I won't ask you anything…". She had mumbled back and cried against his chest," But I want you to know."

"Why?"

"Because I feel, I can share my secrets with you. I don't want to see you hurting, sulking, and moping around, either."

Placing a kiss over her head, he started playing with her hair, considering his options. He had to start from somewhere at least. It was expectable of him to react like that when he saw her coming out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry, forgetting about her wand jutting out of her side pocket. He had just walked up to her and kissed the light out of her or him, he couldn't say for sure. Without caring much about the noise they were making, he had managed to climb up to the next floor, stumbling over his room, kicking the door shut, he had sealed the bonds, claimed his wife, allowed himself to get lost in the primal pleasures, forgetting that heavy weight of grief and sense of desolation somewhere far behind.

Clearing his throat, he asked," who was it?"

He was thanking that noon was unnaturally quiet and perhaps even Ginny had fallen asleep. Even then, he had to strain his ears to catch the muffled words," Lucius Malfoy." Gritting his teeth, holding her tighter, he had squeezed her, trying to tell her in every other way, she was safe in his arms. Picking her up from the floor, he carried her over to Fred's empty bed and gently lowered her on it. Tucking her in, brushing away those cute curls off her face, kissing her brow tenderly he managed to smile. She was evidently quite surprised. Trailing his finger over her parted lips, watching her eyes flutter at the gesture he whispered, "Well that peacock is dead, and even his grave no longer exists," blinking his eyes furiously, huffing a long sigh, he added," even Fred is gone," pointed it his chest he added with effect," though he will continue to live right here. But Mrs. A Weasley, you gave me a reason to start considering the phrase, 'move on'. You are lovely, and Hermione would often say, 'we should be proud of our scars because they make us more strong and powerful beings."

With that, he had tried to get up, but Astoria had caught hold of his hand and pulled at it. Scooting over, she had made space for him. George had to comply, spooned around his wife's soft body, arranging the blanket over both of them, he heard her cry softly, sniffle, and draw a long breath. Then gradually those gave way to soft snores. Watching those soft fluffing clouds sailing across the blue sky he whispered to himself," Fred, I will never let you go. But do you think you can make some room for this angel in my arms?"


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 33**

Looking rather surprised at his blunt invitation, Hermione gawked at him, then launched on a lengthy speech," Well, Sir, umm Master Snape, I might not be privy to many things, but I keep my eyes, ears and nose open. And, I kind of feel 'everything' has to do with Greyback or Professor Lupin, or Harry or the babies, maybe even Andromeda. I have been doing a lot of reading because apart from eating and sleeping I didn't have much to do. So while reading Red Riding Hood, and thanks Fawkes constant nagging, I decided to stretch things out of proportion. Like for example consider the big bad wolf as a werewolf. By just changing that particular factor, the whole story turns surreal."

When Snape had just arched his eyebrow at her, she bit her lips, but continued," Well, I don't know what came upon me, but when Professor Lupin began teaching here, I remember you were the first person to kind of…"

Severus found it quite amusing how Hermione was able to transcend into a new level of consciousness while sharing her thoughts. It was as if she had shredded her skin and had finally morphed into a beautiful butterfly. Waving her hands to drive home a point, tilting her head slightly to the left, scrunching her nose, biting her bottom lip, even her continuous chattering was pleasant and turned in a piece of melodious music as they reached his tired ears.

He couldn't bring himself up to stop her midway. This was the first time, someone was inside his bathroom speaking to him as if it was the most natural thing to do. And this someone was his wife. She was no longer hostile to him. She did care, or else she wouldn't be bringing those vials of pepper up potions and his own mix of nerve-calming draught. Wanting to get included he had blurted out," you don't need to dance around about it, I confess, I had wanted you, people, to figure it out. Please carry on."

Blushing slightly she started again," Umm, well so I suddenly remembered reading somewhere about a sensational case regarding werewolves and also about a person called Lyall Lupin, who happens to be Professor Lupin's father. In fact, the surname Lupin is an indicator. And I remembered reading somewhere while researching about house-elves and goblins in my first year, magical beings do feature in the theory of evolution, I know I am not making much sense right now...but I am certain everything is linked somehow," dropping her shoulders, Hermione had looked at him in frustration.

Severus wanted to laugh because he might have just solved the problem of Hermione's capacity to quote verbatim from massive texts. His witch was born with a photogenic memory. He would have just grabbed a time turner and gone back into the past to find the two-third of the golden trio and smack them once again. Mocking her was downright a criminal offense in his eyes. Dipping his voice, he dragged his words over his palate," So I am Master Snape, what does that make you, Madam Snape, I presume?" not giving her time to even process the quip, he had drawn over the shower curtain and hiding his grin behind it, he spoke in a neutral tone," As such as I like this domestic setting Madam Snape, I would have to request you to relocate yourself outside the bathroom for a while. I will join you as soon as I am done…"

The poor girl had stammered mercilessly and in no time he heard the door to the bathroom slam shut. Sending a mild silencing spell at it, he could no longer hold it in. The small confinement of the bathroom had echoed with his resonating laughter. What wouldn't he give to simply come back to an intellectual conversation and a blushing wife at the end of a rough day? Though they had had a mute agreement over what they would refer to each other as, but still she simply went too far. Soaping himself, he massaged his head thoroughly, recalling how pleasant it felt to hold her within his arms. Feeling a bit better, he started thinking about what he needed to do next. He had to come clean with Hermione. Well maybe tell her the salient points of the whole situation and given her intuitive capacity, he was sure she would come to the same conclusion they all have been standing on. He did feel tired, but this was not the first time he had been actively working for nearly two long days.

Getting up and toweling himself dry, he realized he had forgotten to get fresh clothes. Looking back at the mirror, wiping off the damp surface, he checked on his reflection. It was now growing into a necessity. And with Hermione around, he acknowledged these new quakes of needs and desires to turn a better man in her eyes. It anchored him somewhere at least. Tying the larger towel around his waist, inhaling deeply he swung open the door and walked into the bedroom. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Granger, sitting on the bed and also noticed his personal copy of Grimm's Brothers' book protectively held in her arms. Turning his head slightly to look at Fawkes, he arched his brow but continued walking up to the wardrobe. He was certain of her eyes roving over his back as he took out a pair of white shirt and comfortable trousers, and walked back to the bathroom without saying anything to his wife. He was certain she was blushing all by herself, but he reasoned, she needed to get used to him, after all, they were married and she might have drawn a line to distance each other but they were not standing miles apart. In addition to that, he had this sudden connection of mind, body, and soul to thank for.

Hermione, on the other hand, had honestly ducked her head down and kept looking at the letters, blushing hard, but couldn't stop herself from throwing a nasty glance at Fawkes who took that moment to tease her by speaking in her mind, saying," Aw! My heart! How the wife can't keep her eyes off her husband!"

Snape had come out and called for Pin, ordering the elf to get them some lunch, sparing her just a glance he had he asked Hermione to follow him to the study and to bring along the book. He had noticed her restlessness, as they waited for the meal to arrive. He had in the meantime walked up to his potion closet and leaving the empty vials on the designated rack, he swiftly brought out a small set of vials and walked over to her. The girl had looked up intrigued. Before she could start formulating a question, he had stated, "supplements." leaving no room for further argument.

Apart from that, he had just said another short sentence to her and had left her mulling over it for the rest of their quick and simple meal. "I want to apologize for touching you without your permission. I would make sure such a lapse of judgment on my part does not occur in the future."

Hermione could sense his dueling feelings and in turn, felt guilty of making him go through it. She had good-naturedly offered," it's okay." But then she wasn't prepared for those volley of emotions barging against her mind. Outwardly, Snape had looked slightly astonished but had ignored it the very next moment. But in the confines of his own mind, he was surprised, delighted, and glad for getting acknowledged and accepted.

Once the dishes vanished on their own accord, her husband had yet again surprised her by asking her to join him for a walk. It was surreal to watch him literally stroll through the empty corridors of Hogwarts in just his cashmere midnight blue sweater, and dress pants, with his signature black robe thrown over it. He took her up several stairs and pushed aside a grotesque looking Tibetan tapestry, revealing a trapdoor behind it. Holding the door open, turning at her, he whispered," Go on." To simply say that she found herself inside a glasshouse that to a hanging one was an understatement of the century.

In awe, she had turned back to her husband and exclaimed," from where? How come we never saw this on the map! Does this belong to you?" The man had curled his lips in appreciation and offered," Madam Snape, every map shows what it's makers have seen for themselves, come on, we can sit on that bench over there, beside the gardenia pots and continue our discussion."

Sitting down he stated, "I thought you could enjoy a little bit of fresh air. Since I cannot allow you to go outside. This is the best option I can provide you with. You don't need to explain to me how you managed to get out of the quarters. It seems the castle recognizes you as a part of me and allows you to access through its wards. But you will have to give me your word you won't leave just like that. Since we are connected, you can mention it to me, if I am not around…"

She nodded and said," I know, it is for my safety."

Snape brought out the jewelry box and gave it to her, explaining," Though according to the traditions of the magical society, the husband should give something to the wife, I would want you to wear it, because…"

"I know...I have read about magical jewelry providing the wearer added protection."

Glancing at the book laying on her lap, he decided the subject, "I think, I shouldn't complain about Fawkes already asking you to read the Grimm brothers. Even your random blabbering sounded quite believable."

"Fawkes hinted that none of the muggle stories are just fairy tales, they are connected to the magical world in some way or the other. I had gone to the library to look further, I didn't dare look through your personal bookshelves…"

"And I should applaud you for that."

When she gasped in disbelief thinking loud enough in her mind, Snape appreciating her of all the people, the man sitting next to her had barked out a hearty laugh, thinking back at how comical her face looks. Aloud, he went ahead and quipped, "I would give Mr. Creevy 50 points if he could snap a picture of you with your hair wild and your mouth hanging."

It was fun to watch her nearly fall for his bait and start getting worked up. It was so easy to riel up the Gryffindors. But before she could say a word, Snape had brought his palm up and with the other, he had fished out his own set of pendants. He had a reason to show them to her, at least she would remember one of those was identical to the one he had just gifted her.

Dropping it back under his sweater, he stood up abruptly, extending his arm to her and offered," Someone wishes to contact us through my floo call. It has to be urgent."

Hermione had cut in," Then we better head back, we can talk later on. Um, Can I come here and read, I mean the dungeon is a bit…" Instead of replying directly, the potion master had led her to a stone arch, waving his hand over it, he had smirked at her when a solid wooden door appeared with a knocker in the shape of a coiled snake. He had nudged Hermione over and had gone and stood behind her. Bending down a bit, he whispered into her ears," Say your name, your full name Madam Snape, and watch."

If his voice had made her shiver, Hermione didn't want him to see any of it, Squaring her shoulders she had leaned forward and had said," Madam Hermione Snape." The snake had uncoiled and slithered to the corner of the door near the hinges and with the clicking sound, the entire panel had shifted into a gap in between the stone wall. When she had noticed the insides of the man's study, she had to mumble under her breath," Quite Slytherin of you Master Snape."

They had settled in two armchairs as Snape had activated the floo connection and immediately Neville Longbottom's face had appeared. Severus had offered the man a nod and in no time the tall frame of the former Gryfindor had stepped into the position master's study, brushing off the soot of his robes. When he saw Hermione was present, he had swallowed hard and exclaimed," Mione!" The woman had jumped on her feet and hugged her old friend. Patting each other's back, they had let go and as she sat back on her seat, Neville occupied a chair which Severus had brought forward from the corner of the fireplace.

Rubbing his hands over his long face, Longbottom had thanked the man, " Thank you sir, for allowing me to meet her. I was truly worried about her," turning to Hermione he had offered her another of his goofy smiles. Snape huffed," You are among her friends. What brings you here, Longbottom?"

"Um, Sir I wanted to know about the Zabinis."

"They are safe and doing fine."

Watching Hermione from the corner of his eyes, Neville tried to measure his reactions, but Snape interrupted him," This bond enables Madam Snape to read through my mind quite easily. She is mostly aware of all that happened at Blaise Zabini's place. At least for now, I have been assured by both Blaise and Shacklebolt that Greyback has incurred great physical loss and will not strike soon enough. Why don't you brief your friend about your exclusive work on wolfsbane potion instead," getting up he had just mentioned before walking into his lab," in the meantime, I will get the research work on the particular case we have at hand."

When Neville had done narrating his part, Hermione had sat back dumbfounded." Seriously, Neville, you are telling me, you worked with Professor Snape all this while and the man just allowed you into his lab."

Chuckling, Neville had corrected her," not his own lab per se, but we had another one to carry out experiments and work on the first stage of the potion. Till he was captured and Pin had successfully hidden away the cauldrons in his personal lab. As for me, I carried back some of it to my house and continued creating the moonstone, well that is what I am going to call it."

"And Pansy?"

It was rather cute to watch Neville blush, but Hermione was glad for him. "Yeah, I succeeded in healing her of her scars, though Lavender had suffered more. That is what I was worried about how things went with Blaise and her…why did Professor mention you being able to read his thoughts?"

Nodding her head Hermione confirmed," I think since we are 100% compatible, our magical fields agree with each other. I can also sense his emotions, feelings, and read his thoughts, I have a feeling he can do the same as well." When Neville had visibly gulped at that, Hermione had to pat his knee," He is not that scary and I just discovered he had a nasty sense of dry humor."

Snape had been eavesdropping into their conversation and felt quite glad to know her opinion on him, clearing his throat loudly, he had announced his presence and settled over the larger armchair after pushing it closer to the two of them. Placing a fat bunch of parchments and a leather box, over the existing coffee table, the man called for Pin.

He added goodnaturedly," Both of you will be able to leaf through them after I have finished telling you everything I had heard from Andromeda Tonks on the very night the Battle of Hogwarts ended."


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapter.

* * *

Chapter 34

The Floo connection had flared up and in moments the Minister's head was visible. Taking into account the people present at Snape's personal study, the man had just looked at the potion master. Severus, on the other hand, did notice the caged up and anxious look shrouding over the man's countenance and simply waved at him to step in. The man had stepped out of the grate and standing aside he had made way from Minerva McGonagall to step in as well. To say that the others present in the dim-lit study were surprised was an understatement. The former Gryffindors had sprung to their feet and hand in no time surrounded the woman in green tartan robes. "Professor!"

The woman had gushed and had offered each of them, side hugs and a pat on their shoulder. The fact that they were safe and standing in front of her had made her sigh in relief. The only addition to her persona was the sorry looking cane the one she was leaning on, Snape noticed.

"I am glad to see both of you, Mrs. Snape and Mr. Longbottom."

Nodding to her former students, she had hobbled up to Severus Snape, who too had stood up quite baffled by her arrival. The woman did notice him trying to catch the eye of Kingsley and had smacked his arm before engulfing him into a tight hug," Oh, don't try to stew Kingsley, I insisted on coming back to Hogwarts. Severus, I don't like to lay around, doing nothing at all, while you both run around without getting a wink of sleep. Now, I would expect you to reciprocate my gesture and hug me back like a good boy!" When the taller man had brought his arms around the older colleague he was acutely aware of Neville Longbottom gawking at the scene and his own wife smirking right back at him. Pursing his lips, he had pulled back and drawled," Welcome back to Hogwarts."

Showing the Minister the empty two-seater couch a little away from the present setting, Snape had guided Minerva to his own and had helped her sit down. The minister had levitated the couch and had adjusted it so that now the whole seating arrangement looked like a circular formation with the coffee table as the center of attention. Turning to her former students, McGonagall had taken the opportunity to look at them from head to toe. And Snape had to groan because he knew that look of the Transfiguration professor meant she was about to reprimand her cubs in one way or the other.

She had decided to deal with Hermione first," I see my choice does suit you well," eyeing her dress," and I hope you are not already making your mind to take residence in the library," when she heard, Snape cough at that and saw Hermione blush, she had narrowed her eyes and just said," I will talk to you in private after we have had our long-awaited discussion." Without waiting for her bright student's reply, she had turned to Neville, who had immediately stopped grinning and sat up straighter, preparing for a verbal assault. Minerva noticed how the young man had done away with his shakiness and had taken up responsibilities way beyond his capacities and had heard of his success from Shacklebolt. After watching him minutely for half a minute she had actually beamed at him and just exclaimed," I am proud of you Mr. Longbottom. You have brought honour to not only the house of brave Gryffindors but you have made Hogwarts and your ancestors and also your parents and all of us proud of you." Neville's eyes had gone wide and he had ducked his head and just nodded back in acceptance.

Severus had offered her a cup of steamy tea and thanking the man for his thoughtfulness, Minerva had addressed the group in a loud voice," It would have been better if we could have all of you here, but present circumstances are indeed dire. Since I am still the head of the Order of Phoenix," at the mention of Phoenix, Fawkes had flown in and had greatly surprised them. Hermione had caught Neville's eye and had indicated she would fill him with the details later. The students watched how Minerva had regarded the fiery bird and then looked back at Snape and finally back at Fawkes. Not moving her blazing eyes from the magical creature, she had smirked," So you thought you could stick on to Severus, remember he is a master of hiding in the shadows, he is not as lazy as Albus, but I am glad you chose Hogwarts over anything. Thank you, and welcome back."

Turning once again to the group she began," Well, where to begin with...I think it is better that Severus, you, and Kingsley start off and I will fill details in between." Giving the woman a curt nod, Snape had stared at the fire and had begun," Madam Snape, you will recollect Bill and Fleur Weasley's wedding ceremony, from where Mr. Potter, Late Mr. Weasley and you had escaped and went on to your pre-decided 'quest for Voldemort's Horcruxes'," both Minerva and Hermione had noticed how he had gritted his teeth while he said the name of his dead master. "Not only the three of you but even the young sister of the bride had gone missing."

Kingsley had cut in," We initially speculated she could have joined you all, but pieces of evidence were not supporting that line of thought beyond a week of her going missing. The Delacour family had filed for an official inquiry and," looking at Snape, he jerked his head," sources from the Dark Lord's rank came back with news that neither did the Dark Lord request for her abduction nor did any of the death eaters owned up having to do anything with it. We had to accept that on face value because it was common knowledge that Voldemort was an ace Legilemens. Well, it became clear much later, that Severus had been duping him on a regular basis."

Snape took up the conversation and went solemn while looking at Neville directly," The department of Aurors did continue to look for the girl, but with the war nearing and the ministry breached by the dark side, that search and its trail both had gone cold, till Greyback started getting reckless. I did not pay attention to it. He was always the man to handle the most gruesome task. Yaxley, Dolohov, Bellatrix, the Carrows siblings and Greyback were also the most ruthless. Lucius was more on the side of seeking sadistic pleasure from torture without getting his hands dirty. Anyways, we would have picked up Greyback's sudden retreat from the battle of Hogwarts, and consider it as a red flag, if we were not busy defending the school and making sure to defeat Voldemort for good. But Remus did find it odd. He had told me, it was quite unlikely of a werewolf alpha to retreat because the pack considers it as an act of cowardice. And the only explanation that could support this stepping back and disapprating could be, he knew Voldemort would never win it. That he was not true to the cause. His words were proven right when that very night Greyback attacked the castle with his most fierce pack."

Pausing to take a sip from his cup of tea, which was still hot, he started again," And Mr. Longbottom, along with Mr. Blaise had the opportunity to witness Miss Brown's attack. Though you had your own assumptions of Greyback's backup plan or let's say "his actual plan" way before the war."

Looking back at Snape, then at both Minerva and Hermione, Neville had nodded," We were all hiding in the room of requirement, and I saw him attack Pansy one night, I saw him violating and actually digging his claws, but it was his words, that made my blood run cold." Minerva had leaned forward, her voice raspy," what did he say, Longbottom?"

Gulping down and gritting his teeth till his jaws ached, Nevile looked up and repeated from memory," You would make such a feisty mate, I can't wait to taste you raw. You would make a fine mate, flower. As fine as that floral girl, such curvy flesh within the reach of my hands," rubbing his face with both of his palms he grimaced," I was so focused at saving Pansy that I forget that bit. He was hinting at Lavender and I just couldn't work that out. I will never forgive myself, professor, I could have saved her from this horrible fate," turning once at Snape, he had implored," I was certain of your loyalty but would you have trusted a spy completely amidst a war!"

Snape had had the courtesy to offer the man a genuine reply.' And you did well. Both you and Blaise had taken up the responsibility to counter Greyback while we elders could concentrate on greater perils at hand. Lupin had managed to force Greyback retreat from Hogwarts' grounds that night but he was quite shaken. He had come to me and had explained that in some way he was able to read the werewolves' thoughts and get a glimpse of his memories and plans. He was certain that Greyback was planning to overthrow and erase the magical world of Britain and perhaps entire Europe as we know it today, and he was doing it in the way of the wild."

Gesturing at Kingsley, Snape continued," I had sent Remus back home to unite with his family and had contacted Kingsley, who was aware of both Draco and my unique role in the War. Shacklebolt you can say your part once I have done with mine. I need to say this now, or else they will get confused unnecessarily. And I suppose Minerva, you will have to explain to me in detail about this blood marital bonding spell! Never thought you would know of it in the first place, I was betting on Filius's involvement in all of this. Kingsley, is there any word of him?"

Minerva had sniffed and the Minister had gravely replied," We are still inquiring, but the charms professor is still missing. His cottage is warded and protected and his office…" cutting him Snape had blurted," still sealed off, in fact, the entire Ravenclaw tower is sealed off."

From the corner of his eyes, he watched both Hermione and Neville exchange concerned looks and continued," We had Miss Lavender's words as our first clue, thanks to you, Mr Longbottom, which I had mentioned to both Shacklebolt and Minerva. And the next thing you all were aware of was the attacks on the Parkinsons and our on raid at Staghorn Lair, while Greyback had gone after the Greengrass family, unable to locate Pansy. But before all of this something monumental happened that night in this study, that till now only Shacklebolt and I were privy to. Now of course for the sake of this, we thought we would allow both of you in. Later on, perhaps, we would be needing the others to join. But I feel we still have some time," looking at Hermione and then staring at the fire, he said," we need to adjust to these sudden changes in our lives to band together and function as one united force, I suppose that was what you were aiming at Minerva, at the end of it?"

Giving the potion master an apologetic smile, the old Scottish woman had confirmed," It was the only thing in my mind at that time Severus, the only thing that could aid us, secure us and save the magic we are so passionate about." Then turning back to Hermione and Neville, she had exclaimed," even if Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom's magical alternative to muggle dating site did sound fantastic and fascinating, it did manage to salvage the situation. With many wizards and witches getting married in a short span and their magical affinities making their bonds strong and responsive, we are at a better position at responding to a crisis and an attack and we will rebuild the magical world faster."

"And, I cannot quite take all the credit, Severus, I would like to inform you, that our Charms Professor was quite astounded by 'this side project of the Gryffindors.' You are saying the entire section of the Ravenclaw tower is both sealed off and intact. Do you feel Filius's magic is at work?" the transfiguration professor asked hopefully.

Pursing his lips, Snape opined," It is him, I think he is alive. Wounded or gone underground, the battle and Greyback didn't give us much time to look for our own people…"

Hermione noticed Minerva and Shacklebolt share a significant look. Snape had sensed that through their personal connection and had drawled," Why are you asking about Filius Flitwick?" Shacklebolt had brought up a letter from within his robes, taking the letter out of it, he kept it to himself but handled the envelope to the potion master. Snape had narrowed his eyes and had allowed them to rest on the Minister's face for a while. Then abruptly he had grabbed the envelope and read the words," To the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Friend." underneath it was the seal of Gringotts bank in red and crimson black.

He felt like he had missed something for the first time, so he brought the piece of paper close to his eyes and read it carefully. It was quite an ordinary salutation followed by the official seal, written by a person who had known the way to handle the quill for a long while. But the word 'friend' had stood out. He had looked back at both Minerva and Shacklebolt measuring their subtle reactions, then murmured," I will get back to you on this if I am allowed to hold on to this piece of evidence for a while."

Kingsley had relaxed and nodded confirming, "I had thought of the same thing. We are not going to hear from them very soon. At least I presume, the goblins will give us at least two days to decide. If things were that urgent they would have specified it in the letter," tapping his robes' pocket, he added," which we will share afterward, obviously."


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 35**

Both Hermione and Neville were allowed to see the standard Gringott's envelope. It was his wife who had pointed out the obvious. Shocked and thrilled at the discovery, she looked back straight at him then at her former head of the house and the Minister," The word 'friend is written by someone else. Even the ink colour seems darker." Severus did curl the edge of his lips, which did not escape Neville Longbottom. The snake slayer was quite worried about his friend's safety and Snape was infamous for his foul temper. On one hand, he knew it was best to rely on the man's words but he had to see for himself, how Hermione was going. Ron's death had hit her hard. And then Harry's hastily planned exile had left her without any support. The Weasley's were themselves fighting to keep it together. Neville had been to Grimmauld's Place twice before his Gran's funeral and both the times before leaving Granger had hugged him tight and had held on to him for a long time.

Watching how respectful the husband and the wife were being to each other he was relieved. He had turned his eyes and let them hover over the box and the parchments sitting over the coffee table and heaving a sigh.

_Things with Pansy were new and he couldn't give it a definition. He had cooked meals, she had watched his magic-induced knife chop vegetables. She didn't ask much, he didn't consciously try to engage the other into a conversation. After sharing a quiet meal, he had followed her into the bedroom, where she had mutely asked him to join her. He hadn't complained. It was clear, she needed to keep touching something and it was the same for him. He never knew when his eyes had closed on their own. But it was lovely to wake out with her snuggled into his arms and her lips puckered and eyebrows scrunched out like a thoughtful little girl._

_He had informed her, he had to be away for a while and had gestured at his own little library if she wanted it read for a while. But his pixie wife had the gale to smirk and reply sassily," Mr. Longbottom the world can go and shove their head in footlong snow thinking you are a klutz, but I know how wild you are, I have first-hand experience. Go, I won't try to singe my hand again. I will perhaps sleep it in."_

_Pansy was to be blamed for bringing out his wild side. His deepest fantasies, which he had managed to keep under the wraps for so long were nudging at his senses these days. He recalled how he had felt his blood boil, as he had grabbed at her two ankles while she lay down unsuspecting his sudden move. She had squealed as she came crashing against his chest, and had tried to wriggle her way out of his strong arms. But he had just continued to hold her tight. Breathing over her pinkish ears, watching the lobe turn redder, he had huskily whispered," I dare you not to dream of your husband while I am gone, Mrs. Longbottom."_

_When he had turned to close the door of the bedroom shut, he was thrilled to watch her sitting on his bed, blushing, her eye dark with desire and a trembling smile etched on his bright face. He did not know if this was friendship, companionship, lust. Perhaps it was just the beginning of accepting the thrill attached to co-existing._

Biting the inside of his cheek, he had looked around to find, Professor McGonagall had been watching him all this while with a knowing smile on her face. He had ducked his head and had brought it up only when Professor Snape began speaking once again. The man began while staring at the minister and so seemed both were reminiscing that night together," Minerva had to be taken away to St. Mungo's and the others were doing their best at handling the wounded, helping either in the hospital wing or aiding the aurors through the rubble extracting bodies of the fallen."

"With Remus gone, I was certain that the aurors would come for me. But this castle once again came to my aid. It helped me hide in both these quarters and also in the Headmaster suite and office. Before they could take me in for questioning, I had gone over both Lupin's warning and Longbottom's statements and was quite certain, we had to be prepared and strike first rather than picking up remnants of dead bodies. Kingsley and I both had a way of communicating with each other and very soon he was able to make time for me. We had nearly done our talking and Kingsley had just left, when the floo had activated and Lupin's worried face was visible in the green flumes," licking his lips he pulled at his collar discreet feeling the chain and the sets of pendants, one of which was gifted by late Ms. _Gabrielle Delacour_.

_On the night of the end of Battle of Hogwarts_

_Snape had just sat back on his couch right next to the fireplace in the headmaster's office and had closed his tired eyes shut when the fireplace had chimed, and Lupin had urgently asked to be allowed in. He had been up his feet when both Lupin and Andromeda Tonks stepped in. The old woman had never looked so frightened in her life. She had scurried towards him and had grabbed hold of his arms. Jerking them hard, she pleaded," You need to do something, you need to, I don't know who else can. We are in grave danger, trust me. I heard he has got the Veela girl. Is that true?! You need to save her before he has a child with her!" It had not escaped Snape's eyes that behind her Remus had brought along with him a box of journals and parchments and had gently placed it over the side table._

_Asking his personal elf Pin, to bring some tea, he had invited both Andromeda and Lupin to sit down. The woman had brought out her handkerchief and was wiping her tears, but she still looked quite shaken. Lupin placed his hand over her shoulder and asked her gently," Dora, why don't you just tell him everything, one after the other, and I can assure you Severus is quite an attentive listener."_

_Nodding, she looked back at the pale man and sniffed," I will tell you everything," pointing at the box on the side table, she said," those belong to a distant relative of mine, Helga Flammore. I believe she was a squib born in the Black family and might have got married to some naturalist at one point of her life, who in turn was, I suppose related to Ted, at least there are some muggle reports to verify that...But that is beyond the point. The point is both Remus and Fenrir are related."_

Minerva, Hermione, and Neville had turned at Snape sharply, but it was the Scottish woman who had spoken out," What! How I would have known! At least, Albus…"

Putting his palm up, Snape had gestured them to be quiet, and informed," It is difficult to say what Albus knew of this matter. Now, according to Helga Flammore's journal, magic has been around us and in us, for a long time. Kingsley would agree with me here, that in some of the ancient places of the world even today the first traces of magical signatures can be tapped. And Magical beings have evolved over centuries much in the same way, the Muggle Naturalist, Charles Darwin had surmised in his 'Theory of Evolution'. Of course, for the magical beings, the evolution where at times spell induced or curse induced, at things due to genetic mutation over a long period of time. And of course, habitat, profession, and climate did play a part in it."

"Helga had lived many years in a suburb close to the borders of France and Germany. And from there, I presume, she might have heard of the muggle folktales and thought there could be more to those stories that the muggle Grimm Brothers that compiled together. Though many of those were around for a long time alive through bedtime stories, court tales narrated by Jest and courtly fools as they were called back then, and children's stories. The point to be noted here...the ones that can be traced as the source stories were too gruesome to just be a muggle. They were in fact magical, to say the least. We will not go in detail of all that, we will instead focus on the single tale of "Red Riding hood" that had to do with the Black Forest itself." he had turned his gaze at Hermione and had arched his brow, drawling his next words he had informed the group," Madam Snape had been busy while we were fending off Greyback. She can at least tell us the muggle version of it, in crisp language."

His timing had been perfect because Hermione's eyes had gone wide in shock, but she managed not to stammer. Gulping down some water from one of the five glassed Pin had thoughtfully brought in for everyone before the meeting had started, she cleared her throat, tapping her fingers over Snape's personal copy of Grimm Brothers' tales, she started speaking.

"I will begin by telling you all, the version of the story I grew up listening to. My Granny, then my Mum would read them out to me since I can remember." Snape could feel a sense of guilt and remorse pass through her and was quite intrigued by it. He decided to keep that thought stored away. When the time was ideal, he would ask her about it for sure.

_*"Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a village near the forest. Whenever she went out, the little girl wore a red riding cloak, so everyone in the village called her Little Red Riding Hood._

_One morning, Little Red Riding Hood asked her mother if she could go to visit her grandmother as it had been awhile since they'd seen each other._

_"That's a good idea," her mother said. So they packed a nice basket for Little Red Riding Hood to take to her grandmother._

_When the basket was ready, the little girl put on her red cloak and kissed her mother goodbye._

_"Remember, go straight to Grandma's house," her mother cautioned. "Don't dawdle along the way and please don't talk to strangers! The woods are dangerous."_

_"Don't worry, mommy," said Little Red Riding Hood, "I'll be careful."_

_But when Little Red Riding Hood noticed some lovely flowers in the woods, she forgot her promise to her mother. She picked a few, watched the butterflies flit about for awhile, listened to the frogs croaking and then picked a few more._

_Little Red Riding Hood was enjoying the warm summer day so much, that she didn't notice a dark shadow approaching out of the forest behind her..._

_Suddenly, the wolf appeared beside her._

_"What are you doing out here, little girl?" the wolf asked in a voice as friendly as he could muster._

_"I'm on my way to see my Grandma who lives through the forest, near the brook," Little Red Riding Hood replied._

_Then she realized how late she was and quickly excused herself, rushing down the path to her Grandma's house._

_The wolf, in the meantime, took a shortcut..._

_The wolf, a little out of breath from running, arrived at Grandma's and knocked lightly at the door._

_"Oh thank goodness dear! Come in, come in! I was worried sick that something had happened to you in the forest," said Grandma thinking that the knock was her granddaughter._

_The wolf let himself in. Poor Granny did not have time to say another word, before the wolf gobbled her up!_

_The wolf let out a satisfied burp, and then poked through Granny's wardrobe to find a nightgown that he liked. He added a frilly sleeping cap, and for good measure, dabbed some of Granny's perfume behind his pointy ears._

_A few minutes later, Red Riding Hood knocked on the door. The wolf jumped into bed and pulled the covers over his nose. "Who is it?" he called in a cackly voice._

_"It's me, Little Red Riding Hood."_

_"Oh how lovely! Do come in, my dear," croaked the wolf._

_When Little Red Riding Hood entered the little cottage, she could scarcely recognize her Grandmother._

_"Grandmother! Your voice sounds so odd. Is something the matter?" she asked._

_"Oh, I just have touch of a cold," squeaked the wolf adding a cough at the end to prove the point._

_"But Grandmother! What big ears you have," said Little Red Riding Hood as she edged closer to the bed._

_"The better to hear you with, my dear," replied the wolf._

_"But Grandmother! What big eyes you have," said Little Red Riding Hood._

_"The better to see you with, my dear," replied the wolf._

_"But Grandmother! What big teeth you have," said Little Red Riding Hood her voice quivering slightly._

_"The better to eat you with, my dear," roared the wolf and he leapt out of the bed and began to chase the little girl._

_Almost too late, Little Red Riding Hood realized that the person in the bed was not her Grandmother, but a hungry wolf._

_She ran across the room and through the door, shouting, "Help! Wolf!" as loudly as she could._

_A woodsman who was chopping logs nearby heard her cry and ran towards the cottage as fast as he could._

_He grabbed the wolf and made him spit out the poor Grandmother who was a bit frazzled by the whole experience, but still in one piece."Oh Grandma, I was so scared!" sobbed Little Red Riding Hood, "I'll never speak to strangers or dawdle in the forest again."_

_"There, there, child. You've learned an important lesson. Thank goodness you shouted loud enough for this kind woodsman to hear you!"_

_The woodsman knocked out the wolf and carried him deep into the forest where he wouldn't bother people any longer._

_Little Red Riding Hood and her Grandmother had a nice lunch and a long chat."*_

After a bit to catch her breath, she added for the benefit of all, "This was in a prose poem format written by Leanne Guenther. But," showing the book up to everyone, she gestured," this here has the oldest version. Though I would warn you the story has been told in almost all the European languages and parallels have been drawn with ancient Greek and Roman fables. Le Petit Chaperon Rouge by Charles Perrault, though," Snape had interrupted her to add," We must not forget that the premise of this story was a forest and geographically France, Germany, and Switzerland shared the borders of the Black Forest."

Resuming again, Hermione informed," Well, the Perrault French version was actually quite sinister.

*The story had as its subject an "attractive, well-bred young lady", a village girl of the country being deceived into giving a wolf she encountered the information he needed to find her grandmother's house successfully and eat the old woman while at the same time avoiding being noticed by woodcutters working in the nearby forest. Then he proceeded to lay a trap for Red Riding Hood. Little Red Riding Hood ends up being asked to climb into the bed before being eaten by the wolf, where the story ends. The wolf emerges the victor of the encounter and there is no happy ending."*

"And of course there is the famous Grimm Brother's version. The main format of the story remained all the same. *The earlier parts of the tale agree so closely with Perrault's variant that it is almost certainly the source of the tale. However, they modified the ending; this version had the little girl and her grandmother saved by a huntsman who was after the wolf's skin; this ending is identical to that in the tale "The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids", which appears to be the source. The second part featured the girl and her grandmother trapping and killing another wolf, this time anticipating his moves based on their experience with the previous one. The girl did not leave the path when the wolf spoke to her, her grandmother locked the door to keep it out, and when the wolf lurked, the grandmother had Little Red Riding Hood put a trough under the chimney and fill it with water that sausages had been cooked in; the smell lured the wolf down, and it drowned.

The Brothers further revised the story in later editions and it reached the above-mentioned final and better-known version in the 1857 edition of their work. It is notably tamer than the older stories which contained darker themes.*

Minerva and Kingsley had both sat quietly but Neville Longbottom had mumbled astounded by the whole of it," I just thought muggles were good storytellers and even those tales of witch burning at the stakes were hilarious, serious it was so easy of hide your wand and just disillusion yourself, and transfigure some twigs into remains of burnt bones just to fool them. But you are saying Muggles had their own versions of bedtime stories that actually started off as Magical tales," when Snape had arched his brow and looked at the young man pointedly, he had sat up straighter, exclaiming," What! These things happened for real? Like there was really a girl, woman, witch by the silly name 'Red Riding Hood'?!"

Snape had just smirked back slyly," On the contrary Mr. Longbottom, 'Red Riding Hood' was a veela".

* * *

Anything written in between the *-* is either from Wikipedia or by Leanne Guenther. I am just borrowing it. As for the Grimm Brothers tale, I just build up my fic around it. Like I always maintain, I am responsible for my AU and rest are written and claimed by others far more superior to me.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 36**

Hemione Granger nee Snape had literally shot up off her chair, barely balancing herself at its edge and exclaimed," A veela!" narrowing her eyebrows, running her tongue over her lips, she paused only for a second to whisper loud enough for the others to hear," would that mean the big bad wolf was...a werewolf?"

Both Minerva and Neville had turned their heads at Severus Snape, while Kingsley Shacklebolt had sat back further relaxed, folding his hands over his chest, watching Neville Longbottom's expressions.

Severus had to sit and wait, before saying anything. His wife might have just said a broken sentence, but this was the first time he was experiencing the way her brain worked. Being there inside her mind, he watched streams of thoughts racing against each other. Like blurry lines of flashing lights, they run free around him, and at times, he could see a glimpse of a face or two.

And there was her constant inner monologue playing along with it. "Professor Lupin werewolf, Greyback werewolf, and lil Ted will have werewolf tendencies, ahuh, that we are yet to know, Lavender werewolf...Professor's lupin's dad, Lyall wasn't a werewolf, but that surname Lupin….Red Riding Hood veela, Gabrielle, and Fleur veela, though Fleur is married to Bill who was attacked by Greyback, like Pansy and Lavender, no Pansy is more like Bill but Lavender is a werewolf...Lyall had met Greyback during that trial...I just don't remember where I have read about it...Merlin, I hate this!... Veela sister… Gabrielle, they had gone to get her, but instead of her, they came back with a baby girl...Remus and Tonks died, no, Remus's death important...and Harry had to hastily marry Luna, and then right after that Andromeda, Harry, Teddy, and the baby girl left with Master Snape and the Kingsley...before the marriage, Snape came in and asked me to go ahead and that he would bring in Luna...but they did not come out of the room immediately...what did they talk about...who is the baby girl...blonde girl, glowing face...Lavender's last words were?! Oh Shit, Oh bloody Shit! How on earth, did I miss it?!"

She had looked back at her husband but his voice echoed in her head. "All in time, Madam Snape. I would suggest you start breathing again." There was a touch of tease and she saw how the edge of his lips curled slightly.

Snape had chuckled inwardly. He felt proud of her and at the same time, Potter was intuitive but Hermione could process through logical statements faster and she had her photogenic memory to aid her. He realized he had to start training her into Legilimency and Occlumency. But before that, he would have to meet Draco once again.

Minerva, sitting next to Severus, was tapping on the crooked head of her cane, lost in thought. She did remember the Grimm brother's fairy tales, just that they were not as rosy as the one Hermione had grown up hearing. Those were brutal and did have a woodcutter involved, didn't he kill two wolves instead of just one? But a Veela and a werewolf...could there be something absolutely huge hidden in whose bedtime stories the muggle kids for centuries have been growing up with. Hidden in plain sight. This was a brilliant way to do it. And what will the goblins gain out of it? 'Friend' who was this person? Not Griphook, that goblin was always too formal to suddenly declare himself as a friend to "wizards".

For once Kingsley was glad this whole conversation was taking place at Snape's quarters in the bowels of Hogwarts. Watching the reactions of Neville, Hermione and Minerva were satisfying, to say the least. He was also somewhat relieved to see Longbottom acting close to his normal self. Perhaps the bond did him good.

Hermione was honestly finding it too difficult to sit down quietly, she blurted out the first thing in her mind, "while on the run, we had heard about _Gabrielle Delacour_ kidnapping over the wizardry radio which Ron had taken long and Harry had, later on, confessed that while captured in the Manor, he had tried to look for the girl, at least in the dungeons. "

Snape said, "No she couldn't have been there because Lucius would make sure to show off his 'loot' to gain back his place at the Dark Lord's ranks."

Turning back to look at the fire, he started," If I just say, Fenrir Greyback and Remus Lupin were related, I would be giving you incorrect information. In a way, they were connected because both were descendants of the same family...Anyways, according to Helga, werewolves are a cursed section of the shape-shifting clans of forest dwellers. Shapeshifting, I think even Minerva will remember, is the primal segment of animagi theory."

Turning her head, McGonagall had elaborated," Yes, magic had found its way in primitive man and shapeshifters were no doubt, magical people. Tribes initially were one huge family or set of relatives staying together. As civilization grew and societies, kingdoms, nations were founded, they dispersed and mingled with the general populace."

"Andromeda has an acute interest in the Wizengamot proceedings and its jury system. Until recently she too was an integral part of it. The case of Lyall Lupin and Greyback had piqued her interest." pointing at the parchments he had handed over to the group, he read a marked segment," this was witnessed by an official of the auror department and it was later confirmed by a clerk present in the court during this particular session.-

_~Fenrir Greyback did not try to fight his way through his bindings like his fellow convicts. He stood tall and regal, eyeing the members of the Wizengamot as if marking them. But the moment, Mr. Lyall Lupin came forward and started addressing the present court, I noticed a drastic change in the man in shackles. I can't just say that he was glad, or that he was excited or even that he was relieved. Because he was perhaps experiencing all of that. His face lit up like ours do when we see our friends or loved ones. At times, he did try to catch Mr. Lupin's eyes, until the court had dismissed the case and Mr. Lupin lost his cool.~_

"You can, of course, read through the rest of it, they are only meant for your eyes to see and will disintegrate into ashes after their purpose is met, "fishing out another sheet, he drew the other's attention to their own parchments," This is from Lupin's own observations,

_~ Though I will still maintain, I don't remember much of the incident apart from a big black mass hunched over me and the blinding pain on my shoulders and two strong arms with sharp claws digging into one of my legs and holding down my free arm. But I remember his smell, his eyes, and wild beastly thoughts to start with._

_Today, it was by sheer luck or by mistake I came face to face with him, in the woods. While I stood still on this side of the stream and he too kept staring at me from the other side, my nostrils were burning with his smell, my blood was roaring in my ears and I could hearing his thoughts like faint whispers and below all that, there was this temptation not too overpowering, but it made me feel quite uncomfortable. I had to retreat since I couldn't stand being near to him, even if there was about a twenty feet difference between us. When I was about to climb over the embankment, I turned to look down. He was still standing there, his teeth bare, but he looked hurt and I think it was more because I chose to leave._

_It was the year we had graduated, and I had decided to shift into a cabin in the woods, to give my parents some respite from the guilt they bore due to my condition. After I revived, I returned earlier than expected and told my father about my encounter. He was both shocked and relieved. He had hugged me and whispered into my ears," You heard the call but you could win over it." Leaving me baffled at the center of the living room, he had rushed back to his study and had brought back this journal in which, from now on, I am going to write my experiences as a werewolf. I have read and reread all my father's previous entries. I even asked the man time and again, what did he mean by "You heard the call but you could win over it." but to this day, he had refused to say a word on it.~_

Indicating another to yet another entry, Snape readout," This one is written by Andromeda herself.

 _~I had my doubts when my dear Dora mentioned a young man called Remus Lupin rather fondly. But the day, she brought him over for dinner I was both thrilled and frightened. Thrilled because we were having the honour to host a LUPINE, the most heroic tribal warriors of ancient magical society. Frightened because I could also work it out in my mind who this man was. He was Lyall Lupin's son. Fenrir Greyback most-talked-about-victim and a sad-looking shy man. That night I brought out my aunt's books and journal and was confirmed, the uncle had unknowingly bitten the nephew. And the nephew had no knowledge about the legacy he carries. Lyall had not shared the family secret with the boy either. It struck me as strange. And I waited eagerly for the man to come back._ ~

Putting the papers down, Snape addressed the group," You can see for yourself, she sounds quite thrilled with the surname Lupin or the word LUPINE. So was I way back during my school days after my encounter with Remus in his werewolf form at the Shrieking Shack. Perhaps, you, Madam Snape, have read the same books just hours ago, which I had vigorously leafed through those many years before".

Watching Hermione shift slightly on her armchair, and catching Neville look at her from the corner of his eyes, Snape pursed his lip and continued,"Way back, even before the muggle Norman Conquest, there was the mention of a tribe whose warlords carried the name of Lupine. The Lupines lived near the southern edges of the Black Forest of Germany, very near to the French borders. Interestingly I wasn't able to find any evidence from where they came in the first place. There are ballads that describe them as fair and just, firm, and brave warriors or tribesmen. And there are accounts where the entire settlement would disappear into the woods during the full moon and only return back to their village afterward. Why? No one was supposed to ask or even speak of. They said they had offerings to make to their ancestors to annul or appease or pay penance for the crimes committed by their kind. Traders who frequented the handful of houses once or twice every month, chose to be satisfied with that, because the tribe was quite capable of defending their caravans from animal ambush, primarily wolf attacks."

"According to Helga Flammore, Lupine was not their original title or name or family name, whatever you wish to see it as. They had taken it up to hide away the curse. The curse of Grezal the Bright Witch, also known as the curse of Schwarze Nacht. This tribe was originally known as Monde der schwarzen Nacht or Moons of Black Night.

But this tribe was not the only one suffering from its consequences. Unknownst to them, there lived yet another tribe at the northern borders of the forest, in Germany. But not for long. They were primarily nomadic by nature, so it is safe to say, they kept moving from one place to another. They recognized themselves as the Grau or Grey, but their tribal emblem or flag or crest bore a face of a wolf painted in grey with the words Grauer Rucken on it. And several years later the performers of GreyBack clan become quite a popular attraction in small towns and villages of the countryside Europe."

Neville had voiced the obvious question, " So Professor Lupin is a descendant of the Moons of Black Night…" and Hermione had surmised," And Greybacks ancestors were once called Grau or Grauer Rucken".

Instead of Snape, Kingsley had confirmed," That is true and if you think that shapeshifters don't exist, then you are looking at one." With that, he had just got up and shifted into his Asiatic bear form, sniffing and growling once, transformed back into his original human form and sat down calmly.

Minerva had exclaimed," How come you never told me this?"

"It is a family secret, I have been guarding, though Albus knew, and since shapeshifting families are as valued as the endangered species of Veelas, we do enjoy a unique position in the Magical World. Forgive me, Minerva, I have let you believe this was my anigamus form. In fact, I would also like to draw your attention to the fact that if Remus was never bitten by Fenrir Greyback in the first place, and if he showed interest in trying to learn the animagi theory, you would have a rather large black wolf to be proud of and not the abomination of werewolf hiding in a dilapidated shack. With Lyall suffering from dementia we would never know how the ancestors of this family managed to reduce its wolfish tendencies or shimmer down the intensity of the curse."

Hermione had leaned forward and opined," You say it was a curse...but whatever we have read and heard so far, it sounds both like a curse and a prophecy. And I have a feeling this prophecy is not there in the Ministry of Magic. It is old, very very old. And it is still strong and prevalent, isn't it?"

Kingsley had shared an uncomfortable look with Severus and then answered in a measured tone," I have felt the magic of both the curse and its consequence. And I am glad, I wasn't around long enough to be mauled by it. But there is nothing to fear. We don't wish to have another Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic debacle. Everything to do with both the curse, the possible curse breakers, and the prophecies are now not only guarded but are well hidden away from the eyes of the evil."

Heaving a deep sigh, catching Hermione's attention, Snape mused," The magic of the forefathers protects everything that is dear to them."


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 37**

Fawkes had been watching the witches and the wizards deep in conversation. He wasn't expecting Swmg to return tonight. Probably his twin will return in a month's time. Till then, he would have to guard the grounds and help the members of the Order of the phoenix and all those attached to it. He had seen Severus Snape's memories and had confirmed them with that of Kingsley Shacklebolt's thoughts. Greyback did suffer, and the spirits of the Hanging castle were not the ones to fool around with. Swmg once said," those are the serious ones, don't know how to take a joke. They will behead you and then ask its name...angry spirits of the dark kind." On the other hand, he hoped that his headstrong brother would warm up to Potter. And also get a chance to see for himself how the forgotten spirit was responding to the new settlers. Now that Hogwarts castle was once again getting prepared to hear the story of Schwarze Nacht, he decided to make sure that the listeners of it were safe.

All at once the Snapes, Shacklebolt, Mcgonagall, and Longbottom's heads were turned towards the phoenix sitting quietly on a wooden perch beside the long bookshelves. Fawkes had started to sing. Minerva and Snape had heard him do that even before while Albus Dumbledore was alive. But all this was new for Kingsley, Hermione, and Neville. The former Gryffindor students were aware of how important a phoenix was. From its tears to its feathers, every element had powerful healing properties or acted as a strong catalyst to enhance the magical capacities of a wand. But the bird's song was something entirely new for them. The tune carried a sad tone, and when it ended everyone seemed to have tears in their eyes. Hermione muttered, wiping her eyes and sniffing," Well that was moving and mournful."

Snape had run his hand over his face to shake off the uncanny feeling and added," because the real story behind your childish concoction of Little Red Riding Hood is sad, where people died, wanting to be loved, wanting to love, or falling to recognize true love. It is a story of loss. And there was no woodcutter around to save anyone. Instead, the woodcutter had died, got killed by wolves at the very beginning of the story."

He had steadily got up and brought out his pensive. Hermione noticed that it was smaller in size as her husband lowered it over the center table. Clearing his throat, he looked around the room and stared at Fawkes for a long time. Then shaking his head, he explained," I thought it was better to allow you all to see my memories of that night rather than narrate it to you. In this way, you will be able to see everything and take note of every single detail. We cannot afford to miss out on anything. I...well…"

Hermione had inhaled sharply as she watched the proud man trying to find a way to voice many of his dueling emotions. Severus Snape was a very private man and sharing his memories once again did mean a huge thing for him. It was just not the question of whether he trusted the people sitting in his study. It was the question of taking the huge step towards recognizing himself as a part of it. Minerva had tugged at his sleeve to draw his attention," Severus, you know you can trust us, don't you?" the man had jerked his head and gritted his teeth, ready to snap at her. But then Neville's soft voice had managed to throw him off.

"We all are aware of how remarkable that night was. In fact how remarkable the whole day was. I haven't really slept well after that, I have my wand held into a tight fist," laughing humorlessly," I even sleep on my couch and not on my bed, and I have my sleepers on." looking up at Snape who too was looking at the Gryffindor oddly, he stated," Sir, all I am trying to say, none of us here, at least, I can vouch for Hermione and me, we don't even qualify to judge you. We, on the other hand, can only keep thanking you in every possible way for saving our asses for the rest of our lives. And I am sorry for burning down so many cauldrons for the past seven years."

Neville Longbottom was indeed a new man, Minerva realized as the man dared to do the impossible. As soon as he had said his little piece, he had slowly arched one of his eyebrows trying to imitate Snape's signature expression. For a moment, the whole room grew uncannily quiet. Suddenly, Severus threw his head back and laughed to his heart's fill, his shoulders shaking hard with the sound. Minerva had brought out her handkerchief to wipe off her tears, sniggering into the piece of cloth. Shacklebolt had joined the man with a deep chuckle that not only rocked his body but also the chair he sat on. Neville was the last one to join and managed to chortle, self consciously. But Hermione was looking at her husband in awe.

Reining his emotions, he had tried not to look at his wife, instead brought out his ebony wand and pointed it at his temple. They all watched tendrils of his memory getting pulled out of his temple and attaching itself at the end of the wand. Carefully, he brought the wand over the still surface of the dark water in the stone pensive and dropped it in gently.

"Since it is best that we all see this memory together, we can dip one of our hands into the pensive and visit it." Snape had turned to Minerva and taking his cue, the Scottish woman had pulled up her deep green robe sleeves and let it hover over the surface of the water. " Very well, in that case, we better do it together." Once both the Minister and Neville had their sleeves rolled up and let their fingers hover over the still water with the string of memory swimming over it, Snape looked at Hermione and gave her a slight nod. He had been feeling her emotions roaring back in his mind. But now was not the time to despair. The moment her fingers were inches away from the swirling water, he had brought out his hand, placed it over her fingertips, and pushed down, saying," Now."

When the sensation of getting sucked in through a vortex of swirling mist ended, Hermione found herself inside the Hogwarts headmaster's office. On her left side, she saw Neville, Minerva, and Kingsley appear one by one and rather felt Snape standing behind her, close enough for her to lean on. She could still feel the tingle over her fingertips, where he had just touched for a moment and then disappeared. But he was present in her mind, and she could sense him towering over her. For the last couple of minutes in the study, her only thoughts were about visiting Snape's memory, when Harry had shown them to her. It was heart-wrenching to watch the man die in front of her eyes and then watch Ron go away like that… to be honest she was not prepared to visit those memories again.

Until she heard him in her mind speaking to her softly telling her, 'These won't hurt, I promise you.' His words were very encouraging, but was he aware of his own miserable thoughts? Lonely, lost, needing to be touched, desperate to hang on to something. That laughter had turned his sharp-edged out face into a picture of pure joy. She had wanted to offer him something, instead, he went ahead and surprised her. His soft voice had left its lingering warmth, even if those gloomy waters of his miserable emotions had continued to lap around. And his fingers had ignited that forgotten fire of want and desire. Closing her eyes shut, trying hard not to succumb to the temptation of leaning back into him, Hermione snapped open her eyes determined to watch the memory of the night closely.

_Wiping her eyes with the end of her handkerchief, which was surely quite wrinkled by now, Andromeda Tonks looked back at Snape, While Remus Lupin, sat pensive, beside her," Would you agree with me, if I said, magic is as old as nature itself?" Snape nodded back and confirmed," I do." Taking a deep breath, the woman said." Man was still to understand and recognize his magical capacities and lived with just one huge family where everyone was as magical as he was, he thought it was normal. The Old Wolf Pack, I have the exact terms written and collected in here by the way," pointing at the box which Remus had carried with him," the old wolf pack was magical people who could shift into their wolf form and hunt in the depths of the forest. For centuries perhaps they lived like that without being aware of other magical creatures living alongside, until the new alpha, young and strong, Schwarze Nacht saw Rouge by accident and fell in love with her. I would like you to keep in mind, Severus, that the whole story, well rather a huge section is being told by people who were perhaps members of the Monde, Moons, or sons of the Black Night. Schwarze Nacht in German stands for Black Night. He was called black night because his coat was as shiny and as black as the moonless night._

_It was fine to fall in love with Rouge or Red because she was the most beautiful woman in the settlement of_ _Sang de lune Rouge, a close-knit Veela settlement located on the fringes of the Black Forest on the French side. But it was not fine at all to fall for a married woman, nor was it fine for the alpha to pine for the love for a woman belonging to another race altogether, when his wife was carrying his first child, whose name was already decided to be 'Lupine'._

_Rouge had married a handsome young man who had no fear of the ferocious woods which would wake up every night with calls of wild beasts and howls of unknown and unseen predators. And his name was Raphael Hache belonging to the powerful Bûcheron bloodline._

_Remember I said, Nacht saw Rouge by accident one day? The tales go like this, about a handful of miles inside the forest, where trees would suddenly thin out and the sun would actually manage to touch the ground, stood, a lonely cabin. One would just have to follow the thin silver rivulet and then cross over it hopping over the shining moonstones which look like slain giants and then follow the path etched out by the fallen trees to reach this magical cottage, where the old seer of the powerful Veela clans, Gran Grezel lived all by herself. Rouge was her favorite granddaughter. Since, the young woman could not visit the old grandmother post her marriage, one day she managed to convince Raph to take her with him into the forest._

_And they say, it was either the woodsman found some dry wood to carry back home, or Rouge lost her way enjoying the freedom to roam about so far away from her home, that she simply stood on one of those giant rocks and closing her eyes, tilting her face up, to enjoy the warmth of the peeping sun. Nacht had been out hunting for the tribe. Hungry and thirsty and out of luck, he had heard the sound of the water flow close by. The unsuspecting wolf had crouched over to one the bank on the side of the forest and was about to drink some fresh water when he caught sight of her angelic reflection._

_Here the alpha lost himself enthralled by the beauty of this glowing magical woman and there, not far away, Raph was surrounded by Nacht's own evil brother, Grauer Rücken, and his reckless followers. Grauer had previously challenged Nacht's right to become alpha but had lost the bout. The tribe believed he hated Nacht but said nothing. Members of the tribe made fun of him behind his back because of his dusty grey coat which made him unpopular and his prominent hunched back which made him get rejected by the woman he secretly adored. Her name was Mondstrahl, and she was now the mate of the Alpha, and mother of the unborn, Lupine."_


	38. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 38**

It was nearly an hour, but to AndromedaTonks, Time seemed to be galloping away. She shuddered inwardly, thinking, and praying, that Greyback won't jump out of the shadows. She worried about Remus, Nymphadora, and little Ted. More for Little Ted, all this while the only thought that kept her trembling with fear...it was over nine months that little girl was missing...nine months, full-term, and Lavender Brown, had said it was Fleur's sister, a veela, carrying a verified werewolf's child, just like in the prophecy. Only once in the history of magic will that happen. She had no time to waste, they needed to start looking for her and save her, and that innocent babe.

_With renewed determination, she continued narrating the forgotten myth of a faraway land, "Bûcherons were distinguishable by their flowing blonde hair and their leather-bound long handle axes. They carried two of those either around their wide belt or slung across their shoulders. And the Old Pack had lost many of their own in the hands of those dancing men with swinging axes. Grauer had vowed to kill as many as he could lay his eyes on. He hadn't even wasted his time to engage the veela. Enraged by the very sight of him, the werewolf had punched at him and snapped his neck with one brutal blow._

_Raph could do just one thing before dying. He had called out for Rouge and pleaded with her to run away. Simultaneously, something else had happened, Rouge had looked down and Nacht that growled. Their eyes met and time stood still. She thought as her blood ran cold, how could a huge beastly wolf have such soulful eyes, before coming back to her senses and running towards the forest, following the echo of her husband's earth-shattering cry. Dazed by her flowing hair, and hearing Grauer and the others in the hunting pack through the packs connected minds, rejoicing over a victorious kill, Nacht bounded just behind her._

_But the wolf in him, made him take several shortcuts until he skidded right next to Raph's lifeless body, and none of the pack members, in view. It was his misfortune that Rouge too had appeared the very moment his snort was close to the dead man's face, and accidentally the tip got smeared with fresh blood. The Mondes say Veelas curses could burn anything to ashes. But Rouge could not bring herself to curse the black wolf. His eyes had captivated her. And she had let him escape._

_Grauer had seen and heard all the thoughts of the Alpha. And worse he had seen Rouge with his own eyes." Sipping some tea from her cup, Andromeda looked up at Severus and gave a rueful smile," What do you think happened next?"_

_Hermione saw the memory Snape flick his eyes at Remus and then spoke cautiously,"_ _Mondstrahl left the pack and Nacht feeling betrayed and the_ _Bûcherons vowed to take revenge. But Rouge could not bring herself to give away the identity of the wolf she saw hunched over her new husband's lifeless body."_

_The old woman abruptly leaned over and caught his sleeves asking urgently," How can you.. do you already know this story...I should have guessed...Oh! Merlin…" raising his hand to halt her rambling, he spoke softly," No, I guessed because, contrary to what the world thinks, I know how love works...please, Andromeda, do continue." Remus had lowered his eyes making sure his mother in law did not see the shame the man was currently feeling. Bewildered, Andromeda shook her head and started," Well, you are right, the Bûcherons questioned the shocked young wife but could get nothing out of her. Seeing her state, Gran Grezel volunteered to take her away from the accusing and mourning settlement. Since then, the miserable girl stayed with the old wise woman at her secluded cottage. But he did miss her parents who were now frowned upon by the still grieving and shocked dwellers. You see, Raph was quite a popular young man."_

_"Bûcherons vowed to launch a massive hunt to kill the beast, but none could find those predators. On the other hand, in the Pack Lair tensions were rising, never did it happen that intruders were scouting so deep into the forest and that the alpha was uncharacteristically unphased by that._ _Mondstrahl found her husband distant, thoughtful, and prying a little further; she was shocked to see Rouge's face flashing in his mind. Unable to trust anyone, she went to Grauer and asked about the last day they went hunting. The vicious brother in law was waiting for this chance, pretending to be too ashamed, he chose to lead her till Gran Grezel's Cottage. The wife knew at once, she had lost her husband forever. Rouge even in mourning was as brilliant as a forest nymph, how could she a wildering tribal woman compete with an angel like her? Neither did she have it in her to be a scornful woman."_

_Snape had blurted out," Which means she could not go back and ask her delirious husband, that would mean she was suspecting him already. She could not challenge him in front of the whole pack, because she was carrying his child. She would not ask for a substitute challenger because that too would give rise to uncomfortable questions. She must have kept quiet, battling within herself and perhaps watching Nacht who in turn would watch the object of his desire from a distance."_

" _Why of course that was what happened, but how do you know so much?"_

_Snape tried to stall a bit. Instead of directly answering her, he looked at the burning hearth and mused," I have been a spy for most of my life, guesswork is as natural to me as is perhaps drinking water."_

_Remus looked hard at Snape but answered his mother in law's question," For most of his 7th year, apart from sulking, and studying for exams and hanging out with future death eaters, Severus did one more thing- he read every book in Hogwarts library that mentioned the word…"_

_Smirking back throwing an invisible challenge, Snape pretended to confess," Okay, so I read about wolves, Yes, I agree, I do know a bit about the ways of Magical creatures, but Andromeda I had my reasons," watching Remus from the corner of his eyes, he told her," Magical creatures have always shied away from me, tell me how else would I learn about them, if not from books? It was only after I joined the school as a potion master, and tried my hand at teaching myself some advanced transfiguration skills did I realize, my inclination towards Dark Magic made me unpopular among Hagrid's so-called pets! Now, enough of me, please carry on Andromeda, tell me everything I need to know."_

_If Andromeda could sense the underlying tension between the two men beside her, she chose to ignore it and decided to speak to Remus about it in private. Inhaling deeply, she nodded," you guessed it right Mondstrahl watched her husband eyeing the lonely cottage from behind the dense bushes. Her heart broke to see the man she had given her heart and soul, was no longer hers. He could not even hear her thoughts, as if he never existed in her mind in the first place. Rubbing her hands over her swollen belly, she would keep trying to reach him through the gradually thinning away mental connection. And Grauer watched both of them from afar. Aunt Helga's notes don't say much after this, at least from the point of view of the Mondes. It is briefly mentioned that one-night Mondstrahl just vanishes from the jungle, never to be seen again."_

_"But there are some notes of one exemplary performance of the Wolfish Grey's Traveling Circus. It is pointed out because to this day both the muggle world as well as secluded magical settlers around the Black Forest are aware of the first version of the fairy tale, Red Riding Hood. According to villagers, it had been an extraordinary performance. The rumour has it, the master of the caravan had suddenly come up with a new act, where all performers would enact a rather romantic and adventurous play. The story of the play goes like this, A wolf watches a fair maiden with flowing blonde hair wearing a crimson red cape, visit her grandmother's cottage. He makes a plan to eat both the old woman and this beautiful granddaughter. He dresses as a woodcutter and fools the girl into asking her to gather some flowers for her ailing grandmother from the bank of the nearby river. While the innocent girl is off collecting those flowers, he visits the grandmother and eats her. The girl comes to visit without knowing that the wolf is inside the cottage. She is allowed in by the wolf himself who is now dressed in the granny's clothes._

_The performance had gathered a huge crowd and all were watching it with rapt attention. And then tragedy struck. The role of the wolf was played by the caravan master himself. And the role of the granddaughter was played by his own daughter. Here all of a sudden, the daughter starts acting like she is possessed and in front of the entire crowd, slits her father's throat. The crew sensing inquisition from local authorities vanishes from the scene overnight. The local law enforcers, the fief guards could only detain the raving daughter bathed in her father's blood, muttering to herself," Red and Black was meant to be, but not in this way, not today."_

The memory fizzles away and once again all of them find themselves back in Snape's study. Minerva was first to speak," But that hardly sounded like one whole prophecy." Snape accepted it," No, that was just the crust of it. But there are ample clues to work upon." Neville had spoken up," Yes, like Lupine."

Interrupting him mid-sentence," No, it is already established that Remus is the descendant of Nacht, at least Remus belongs to the bloodline of Lupine, Andromeda had that part worked out. And with that, she had convinced Lupin to embrace life and stop hiding away for good. I have those papers in here," nudging his head towards the box, the potion master surmised.

Minerva urged," But then the prophecy?" Shacklebolt had noticed that Snape was looking at Hermione discreetly, who on the other hand had fished out a parchment and a quill and had been busy scribing on it.

The witch had triumphantly declared after what seemed to be about five minutes," Red in French is Rouge. I happened to read about that performance in one of the books today, where the witness, who I think was a half-blood or a squib, keeps mentioning," the mad lass went on mumbling Rose, Rose Rose, Black's dear Rose." She was actually saying Rouge. The tale was supposed to be about lost love. I also happened to read in "Endangered Species of the Magical world, a thorough study on Magical creatures''. We might not encounter very powerful Veela these days, but once upon a time, they were powerful seers as well as skilled at the art of wielding weapons. There is a mention of Grezel Sokressin, who with her powers was believed to make nature heed to her summons. But then she died one night. Veela clans to this date can't make heads or tails of the mystery. The texts just say, that night a sudden pull at their magic had made them go look for her at her cottage and when they finally reached there, they were taken aback by the amount of blood spilled on the floor. As if the whole place was bathed with it. Few volunteered to guard the place, while others went back to bring more men. But none of them could find their way back to the cottage once again. And weeks later, the torn apart remains of those unfortunate men who chose to guard the eerily empty cottage were found beside the path that led to the forest. At least, that was what, "Unsolved magical occurrences that become Myths- by Bobpin Bibbit Bugeon'' had to say about it."

She had extended her hand and passed on the parchment to Snape, who just glanced over it and gave it to McGonagall to read and share with Shacklebolt. Neville had watched Hermione write it in the first place, so all he managed to say," Thanks to Merlin and your love for the library, 'Mione, or else, we would have to scale those books from scratch at ungodly hours." Hermione had poked him at his ribs, making him choke and laugh like old times.

Getting back to Minerva's earlier question, Snape sat back on the couch and fiddled with the edge of his wand," Andromeda believes, the prophecy needs to be tested first."

Both Neville and Hermione spoke out of turn," How?", and Hermione insisted," test a prophecy? How can one test a prophecy?"

Shacklebolt replied," We cannot say much about it, right now, Madam Snape," then to her husband, he spoke the last part," but we can hope to learn more about it, now that we are all together." Snape had flicked his eyes back at Fawkes, who had just tilted his head and went back to preening his feathers.

Neville asked the obvious question," So you mean to say, you do have a way to contact her?" When none of the older men offered a definitive answer, Minerva took the hint and asked eagerly," But you are certain, she is safe?"

Severus took pity on his trusted colleague. Nodding back at her, he just said," She is not alone." It took some time for the woman to join the dots. Swallowing a couple of times, the Gryffindor head of the house tried to form the most important question. Hermione ended up asking it instead. Biting her bottom lip hard, she whispered cautiously," They, they are together. All five of them, aren't they?"

Snape deliberately chose not to answer it, instead, he abruptly ended up asking the deputy headmistress," You would remember Dumbledore often said," time will tell', and now I think, if we are feeling up to it, we can see the rest of the memory, if you all can excuse me, for a moment or two?" A curt nod from Minerva, saw the tall man striding out of the room towards his lab, while Neville mumbled closed to Hermione's ears," I think he took precautions of keeping the memory aside. Well, that is more like the ever paranoid Snape, we grew up under, not the one who keeps checking out his wife now and then. What did you do to him, 'Mione?"

Hermione had slapped his arm playfully and blushed, "Shut it, Neville!"


	39. Chapter 39

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 39**

Hermione watched her husband return back and swiftly empty a vial in the pensive. This time, all the others had brought over their hands and had already vanished into mists. They two were the last to leave. Moments before taking the plunge, Hermione had grabbed Severus's palm. Surprised by the sudden gesture, he jerked his head up. Squeezing it, she said," I trust you," then tugged it down into the pensive and both disappeared. Fawkes chortled and said to himself," well played, that was quick a checkmate, spymaster, I hope you can last it any longer."

The scene hadn't changed much. The office was still dim with only the hearth burning. Though Hermione did notice the tea service had been refilled. That would be the work of the Hogwarts elves. Andromeda was leaning over and so were memory-Snape and Remus. In hushed voices, she was talking to them, visibly wary of her surroundings. But the visiting witches and wizards could hear her loud enough.

"Possibly the first Mondes were against putting things into writing because whatever had occurred were too shameful to speak off. But the first Lupine's grandson, Gerade Mitternacht Lupine thought a little differently. He had shared bits and pieces of his unique history with a wandering bard, Oden, and the next part of the tale is based on his folklore songs.

According to Oden,

~The spirit mourns in the depths of the forest.  
Mourns his fate, mourns the loss of his people and love.  
The white witch no longer resides in the Wunder Hutte.  
The place is no longer there.  
There are new spirits in the forest instead,  
that hides away the love and loss,  
the blood and secret,  
It awaits for the masters to return.  
It might take centuries,  
but Time will once behave like the great ocean.  
It will return what is lost now in its blue depths.  
The call of the night is never gone,  
it speaks in the mind of the pack.  
Until then, the curse will live  
and run through the blood.  
Til the blood of the pure ones,  
innocent and just will caress  
the barren land of forest ground,  
dark, forlorn, bare, and forgotten.~

Pausing a bit she conferred, "I couldn't make much sense out of it until I met Remus."

Snape looked at the DADA professor and opined," So, that is how you know about Greyback's plans. You can hear him, and he is not aware of it, but maybe has started doubting. He never showed much enthusiasm when your name was brought up in one of the Dark Lord's meetings, but I think he had lapped onto every drop of information Yaxley had brought in." Suddenly, straightening up, looking directly into Mrs. Tonks eyes, he gasped, his face growing paler by the second," You are afraid he is after your infant grandson, if he can't tame the father, he will go after the babe."

The grandmother whimpered, then confirmed," Oh, yes, but that is not all, he already has the Veela girl, and if we don't hide Ted…" Cutting her mid-sentence, aware that his mother in law was shaken beyond comprehension, Lupin implored," Severus, the thing is Helga Flammore also kept a patch of dried up deerskin and a piece of silk. Andromeda can't see anything on it, but I can both see and read what is written on the skin. Not read exactly. I don't know how to say this, I don't know the letters, but someone else in me can read it fluently."

Snape leaned forward looking hard at Lupin, tapping his finger on his thin lips he asked," Do you think Greyback can hear your thoughts as well?"

The man shook his head," No, I am most certain of it, though, I do have this feeling he can't hit me hard enough each time we have come face to face. Something stops him and his thoughts are more sorrowful than being hateful, I can't find any logic in it."

"Do you think he considers you as kin because he has sired you, I mean turned you into a werewolf in the first place and maybe wants Ted…"

The grandmother's sharp voice had surprised both the men," You got it wrong, Snape. Just hear me out." Remus shrugged his shoulder and implied," Yes, you need to hear the whole thing."

"Yes, though I can't read it, and I met Remus quite late. I had no way of knowing what two folded pieces laying rolled up at the bottom of the first trunk was in the first place. It is in one of the smaller trunks…"

Snape arched his brow and asked genuinely confused," Trunks?"

The woman tutted and apologized," Forgive me, I forgot to mention, I actually inherited six trunks of different sizes from my distant Aunt and in them those documents, journals and parchments were kept."

"And Dumbledore and Authur read through all of them?"

"Well, they did flip through them, The former Headmaster did cast several spells over them, but found nothing malicious."

Rubbing his lip, Snape narrowed his eyes and just said," I see, then what happened? I mean did you find another clue?"

The woman exclaimed," yes, this has perhaps the Veela version, but at least it is in French," fishing out a parchment from the box, for the first time, she read it aloud," It is composed by a court singer the rough translation goes like this:

"The brothers are lost in the forest dark  
Where beastly ghost still lurks and growls  
They ask me, to remember them  
But warn me not to come any nearer.  
They gave their lives they say  
And not in vain like we believe.  
The wolf did not kill them  
Neither did it want to kill anyone that night  
It was the knife that tore through love.  
We guard the place where Grezel last slept  
We are keepers of the blackened rose.  
We weep with the lover here,  
Who roams around raving wild~

Why was I born with claws so sharp?  
Why did you have to look back at me with love  
Etched in your dying eyes?  
Why couldn't I say it aloud,  
How I love you, rose?  
Will you ever love me so?

As my life leaves my body,  
I hear the Sokressin chant  
In her death  
Love never dies,  
To this place  
It shall once again return  
In a different age, in darker times."

This time when the memory fizzled away and they came back to the dungeon study, Snape had just given them a couple of moments to catch their breath. Putting out another vial from his robes, he muttered," This one was entrusted to me by Remus himself. I had suggested both of them to approach Mrs. Fleur Weasley at the earliest. And Shacklebolt was able to arrange the meeting on that very night." Minister Shacklebolt confirmed with a nod and was first to disappear into the mists of the pensive in which Snape had dropped the memory. One by one all of them entered the pensive.

The familiar living room of the shell cottage was visible. Hermione noticed Fleur and Bill were present, sitting side by side, and their traveling robes, where haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch. Andromeda, Remus, and Shacklebolt were also present. It was Fleur who spoke first, her hands still holding on to her husband's large one, tears rolling down her eyes, but they were not focused on any person, they were staring at a banner of sorts, or probably an old tapestry. To get a better look, Hermione had tried to walk further into the room and peer over their shoulders, but her husband had stalked her moments, placing a hand on her shoulder and whispering the words'' stay here."

Biting her lips the French wife managed to say," I always thought this was all fantastic tales our nanny loved to entertain us with...trust me, I grew up hearing, how the bad wolf gobbled the old grandmother and then made the unsuspecting granddaughter chew at her bones and teeth. And finally raped her and killed her. But the Veela magic was too powerful and since he had violated the White witch he died shortly after. Our nanny would say with a flourish- "it is evil that dies the most painful of deaths." pointing over the embroidered runes, she mused," but here it says something entirely different!"

Andromeda implored," what else does it say?"

Fleur pursed lips and scrunched her brows," This is mostly in Old French, but it is still readable. Its piece of cloth is magically weaved and the thread is old but has strong magic entwined around it. Can you all hear the dull hum, like someone is singing from over the wind?" When all of them had stared at each other confused and Fleur realized that only she could sense it, she gasped," do you think it is a Veela thing like only I can hear it? Turning to Remus and Andromeda she asked," where did you find it?"

"It was left to me by my aunt," Andromeda mentioned hastily.

Bill narrowed his eyes and asked," What does it have to do with Greyback, Teddy and Gabrielle?"

Fleur had turned abruptly to look at her husband and then her eyes flew open. Looking at Andromeda she whispered in fright," Fluch von Rout!" The cloth in front of them fluttered on its own and had morphed into a face. The witches and the wizards had aimed their wands at it, but they could not think of any spell because the face had begun singing. When it was over the veela had started crying hard, sobbing into her husband's arms.

At the same time, she managed to speak," I don't know why it made me so emotional, but it mentioned the following:

I made the heart that loved me so much  
bleed over my treacherous knife.  
But all that his burning eyes  
could offer me, was love.  
He tried to get hold of me,  
but instead, his claws dug into my throat,  
the last thing,  
I saw was, him crying over me.  
His eyes had kept me awake  
for days and nights,  
his eyes could  
make the moon and sun shy,  
his eyes could kill the fire  
and even set it ablaze.  
I don't wish to die just yet.  
He was not the evil,  
he never killed for sport,  
his eyes kept telling me just that,  
he was as innocent as a babe.

"Curse to all those wolves then  
who tainted the black angel  
that holds me close to his dying heart.  
I curse the Grauer  
who killed a noble Hache.  
The moon will make you  
turn into monsters.  
Vile Rucken, You shall have to hide  
and flee for your lives until a veela  
half-willingly gives away  
what is most precious to her.  
And the monster claims  
it not deserving it at all.  
But oh! Pure Nacht stays right here  
till your Lupine returns."

"Mother unwed will give birth to a rose, bright as the sun and delicate as the moon," gulping down the rising bile she pressed on," though the rose will also belong to a grey vile and a black just. But the father must die from the crimes that its blood had always committed and the lover shall stand by his love redeemed."-

"I...there was a lot more but the rest sounded gibberish. I don't know what to think of all of this, you are telling me, my sister is alive and you all suspect that Greyback has her held captive and that she is pregnant?"

When they had returned back to the study, Minerva flopped back on her armchair, thoroughly exhausted and Snape had at once kneeled in front of her, worried. Without opening her eyes, the Scottish woman mumbled," Stop hovering, I am just a bit tired. Would you mind if we talk about it later? And I would rather want both Kingsley and you, to rest, and not drop dead with exhaustion at the foot of some stairs."

* * *

A/N: I hope the story is making some sense, at least...


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapter.

**Chapter 40**

This particular afternoon was filled with surprises. If Neville Longbottom was ever asked during his long tenure as a student of Hogwarts, could he ever imagine the Dungeon Bat, the greasy git, Severus Snape at a domestic setting, he would surely faint. To see the tall and thin man bent on his knees with McGonagall’s wrinkled hand, held with his own was dramatic. But he had seen more in the past couple of hours. The man believed in love. He loved Late Mrs. Potter so much that he took it upon himself to watch Voldemort and his several death eaters get defeated once and for all. 

Sitting next to Hermione, he did not miss those discreet glances the husband and wife shared. Neither did it escape his notice how they two stood close by while visiting those memories. Not even for once did the git called his young wife,” Insufferable know it all”! What would the others have to say for it? 

He saw those hints of trust and respect, he felt those undercurrents of emotions radiating from both. It made him really happy. Even if their pair was not the most desirable on the surface, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger were alike in many ways. He just hoped for the best. Rubbing his palms over his knees he spoke aloud to no one particular,” I..I better go, it is already afternoon and Pansy is all alone.”

As Snape busied himself into administering some of the basic potions to McGonagall, the minister replied,” That would be advisable given your peculiar situation. Just keep in mind to inform us about the hours you can make yourself available for further investigation.”

Standing up, nodding his head, Longbottom replied,” I will work it out and owl you Sir.” Turning to Minerva, he offered a genuine smile,” It is good to see you here at Hogwarts, Madam.” The Gryffindor Head of the House beamed at him,” Mr. Longbottom I would rather say, it is good to have you here. Frank and Alice would have been quite proud of you. Keep up the good work. And convey my best wishes to Mrs. Longbottom.” The former student had nodded to that, and Minerva had bit the insides of her cheek when she saw those blushes colour his face up. The boy had turned to engulf Hermione into a bear hug and made a beeline for the fireplace. Shacklebolt too had literally dashed out after she had looked at him pointedly.

Snape smirked at her and she threw her head back, giggling merrily,” Oh! Come on, Severus, I happen to be a teacher for a long time, it is just impossible for me to act in any other way.”

He had dipped his tone lower enough,” And stare hard enough to make even the Minister flee away from the scene.”

Brushing him aside, she sat straighter, testing her weight on her knees,” Always remember, you also have a roaring and punching Gryffindor as a wife.” The professor looked at a smirking and awkward Hermione sitting behind her husband and winked. The girl rocked on her seat managing to muffle her laughter with her palm. Subtly changing the topic, Snape suggested,” I don’t like the idea of you staying away in the Gryffindor Tower. Even the Headmaster’s Office allows only me to reside in it. Under the circumstances, I would suggest you stay in the guest quarters of the Slytherin house.”

When Minerva had gagged at the offer, He managed to look slightly affronted,” I suggest that you hold on to your comments till you get to see them with your eyes.” 

Hermione had been at her former Head of the House’s side while her husband had once again tapped at the bare wall which she knew was the door to the Hanging Garden. Leading them out of the magical arch he had walked about twenty steps along the small path running beside the wall and once again tapped on a bare surface. The entire section started to change, until a glass door and to bay windows appeared over the stone surface. 

It was Pin who had opened the door and welcomed the three of them inside. 

Minerva had marveled at the quarters and so had Hermione. Instead of Slytherin colours, the room was draped in shades of blue, gold, and red. It had a small sitting area, a large empty bookshelf, and a small round dining table with four chairs tucked around it. The sitting area had well-furnished armchairs placed around the hearth. Walked ahead, the man had thrown open a door at one end, revealing a large bedroom. With a challenging smirk on his face, he peered down at the old Gryffindor witch and drawled,” You were saying?”

Smacking his arm, Minerva had hobbled past him, dropping her purse over the foot bench,” You don’t need to shove it on my face! Never in all these years, have I set my eyes on these guest rooms! I wonder how you learned about them in the first place.” The man turned away, hiding his face behind his long hair, just informed,” I would leave the two of you to have that much-awaited chat and retire to my study.”

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him,” Severus, I would rather like you to rest and not brood on your worn-out chair. We can discuss all of this over dinner or maybe tomorrow morning. And I wouldn’t hold on to Mrs. Snape for long.” Nodding curtly, Snape excused himself and the two watched him leave with his robes billowing behind him. 

Turning to Hermione who had been watching her husband with sad eyes, Minerva drew her attention to her,” Could you help me out of these robes? I would like to lay down a bit, and please bring that chair a little closer to the head of the bed. I would like to tell you something important.”

If his sudden hasty retreat had drawn Minerva’s interest, Severus hardly cared. Stumbling back to his study, he flopped down on his own armchair and closed his eyes, panting hard and shivering all over. Even if he had the luxury to relax his mind during the shower, that proved inadequate. Everything seemed to be just overflowing out of proportions. He never wished to speak so casually to Hermione in front of the others. And his lack of snarky comments, his uncharacteristic softness towards her was noticed and appreciated by Neville Longbottom of all the people. He did not like the fact. He had always been aloof and alone. It was his safe haven and this encroachment of social circumstances made him nervous.

His own words sounded like he had been surviving only on sugar and desserts for the last couple of months. Only a sap would be this beguiling to say,” A tale of lost love.” Those Gryffindors would be too sharp to make a parallel connection between his unrequited love and the tale, would they end up making fun of him? But this was not the first time, students, people younger to him by years made fun of him behind his back, then why did it matter so much now?

He brought his palm up to rub his face, but instead of bringing it over his face, he started studying it. His fingers were bonnie and knobby and years of potion-making had left behind its markings in the form of scars from blisters and minor cuts. Instead of finding them revolting, Hermione had held them. Her words were still resonating in his eardrums,” I trust you.” She wasn’t joking, was she? Trust, since when had somebody given it to him so bluntly. Every time, someone said it, they wanted him to bleed for them in return. 

If there was anything worthy to muse over, it was how she panicked when they talked about watching over the memories in the beginning. It was not that she was concerned about watching it, because it was his memories. In the confines of her mind, he had been startled to see those thick mists engulf him. It took him moments to figure out those waves of panic and gripping tendrils of those anxious thoughts. Severus Snape was moved to feel, hear, and sense and see Hermione’s thoughts. She wanted him alive. She didn’t want to go back to the moments where he lay helpless, his throat barely there, his memories swimming over his temple and eyes on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. She dreaded to see him bleed above all, all over again. 

A flutter of wings later, Fawkes came to sit in front of him on the edge of the center table. It’s ancient voice nudged past his battling thoughts. 

“It is new, but it was time, you should start feeling like any other human, don’t you think?”

Swallowing hard, snape thought back,” Merlin! Even if it is just a tiny drop of emotion, still it is nice to know she cares.”

Fawkes tilted his head and looked back,” Yes, she was worried. Don't confuse it with the workings of the bond. It is only humane to start to care.”

Doubting the bond that made him go so soft, Snape grimaced,” So fast, don’t you think it is happening all so soon? Surely she hasn’t forgotten Ronald Weasley.”

Sagely, the phoenix opined,” When you have no one to turn to, you grab on to the nearly warm surface to feel alive.” Spreading his wings, he flew overhead and left through the fireplace. Its last words pushed him off the edge of sanity. 

When about an hour later, Hermione entered the study through the concealed door, she found her husband fast asleep. Just like Minerva had predicted, he was reclining over his armchair, his feet stretched over the fireplace, and his head resting over to the left. His hair hung around his sleeping face. Without giving it another thought, she brought her fingers over his face and screamed. Snape had grabbed at her wrist mid-air and had sprung to his feet, his face twisted in rage, mere inches away from her frightened eyes. He took some moments to come back to his senses and walked around the chair to put some distance between them. Finding nothing else to say, she managed to mumble,” Was it a nightmare about werewolves?”

Picking on a loss thread, he squared his shoulders but said nothing. It was painful to watch him stand like that guarded, alone, and fighting with the world all by himself. But McGonagall had told her this was how Snape dealt with situations and had asked her, rather pleaded with her to at least try to befriend him. 

_ “Hermione, deep down I knew the process would find both Severus and you compatible. You might have had the chance to be linked with Draco Malfoy. But Severus didn’t have that luxury. He is a unique person. It is true, he spent most of his life pinned from Harry’s mother, but Voldemort is defeated. He is relinquished of any oaths he might have made to Lily’s spirit or to himself or to Late Albus Dumbledore. Harry might have opted for running away. If Severus was a couple of years younger, he too would have opted for just that. But not the one we have with us. He would opt for dying alone, perhaps in a cave, or even poison himself. I had warned Shacklebolt to watch over Snape closely. Why else do you think, the minister has been keeping him close to himself? It is another thing altogether that we need him, just as much as we need you, or Malfoy, or all the Weasleys. But don’t you think, we owe this man the most? This least we can give him is a valid reason to live. I know you are compassionate Hermione, can you consider to show Severus a bit of that as well?” _

Just like their first night, she brought her hand up to him and said,” The last couple of days have been quite trying for all of us. I am tired, but you look worse, please, can’t we just rest for a while?”

His eyes had flicked from her extended open palm to her face and then he looked away at the burning hearth and said,” Why this sudden show of pity, Madam Snape?” Hermione had strode forward and had forcefully turned him to face her. When he tried to jerk away, she held on to his sleeve tightening his grip.”Shut it!” biting her words, she barked,” Pity, I am not pitying you. Just like you did not pity me two nights ago.”

She tried once again, “I know we had to consummate our marriage. But I can hear, see, feel and sense you like you are not someone else, but an extension of my own body. So don’t you dare insult this connection…” his hand had come from behind and tugged her firmly, so that the very next second, she was in his arms, and his head buried at the crook of her neck. The fact that she was kneeling on his armchair added some inches to make them be at the same level. Breathing in her essence, he closed his eyes and whispered, “why did you say, you trust me, why do you care? When you already made it clear, You don’t want to, I...said before, I don’t need anything in return…” 

Pushing at his chest, bringing her face up so that she could look right into his eyes, she said,” Because it is natural for me because I want to give this a chance. And don’t think, Mcgonagall talked me into this. I want to do this because it is the right thing to do,” throwing caution to the wind, she leaned over to drive her point home by pressing her lips over his slightly parted ones. 

But Snape was faster. Cradling her head firmly with both hands, he chose to plunder her mouth with all the surging passion. She said she cared, she said she wanted to be by his side. He knew she meant she would at least try. But he was never the one to opt for things halfway. He vowed he would make sure that she would never find a reason to look the other way. 

~


	41. Chapter 41

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 41**

The study was just a little colder when they parted. Resting his head over her soft curls, Severus inhaled deeply. He felt warm within and those angry screams echoing inside his mind were gradually getting reduced to soft murmurs. Still held against him, she spoke, her words tickling his aching lips. "I know this is too fast, but it seems I know you for a lifetime. I mean I do know you but…"

He finished it for her," It's too fast, I know, I am sorry, but, I just can't keep myself away."

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione blinked and argued," It is only logical. For the last two days, I saw everything, heard everything, felt every atom of your emotions. It was like I lived your whole life, wearing your shoes. I can't just imagine living a life like that," caressing his face softly, she added," I don't usually jump into things, I have a habit of thinking it through, weighing all the pros and cons." He had curled his lips up at that and whispered, tugging a few strands of her wild hair," your mind is nothing but an out of control roller coaster." It was fulfilling to watch her cheeks colour up at that. Biting her lips, she watched his eyes narrow down to them and smirked back daring to say something out of character," it's one of your weaknesses?"

Snape just let go of her and started walking towards the bedroom. Surprised at his swift dismissal, Hermione slowly sat down on his chair, looking quite put out. She watched him cross the length of the study and marveled at his slender back. A panther, how befitting was it. Collected, controlled, decisive, and vigilant. It took her nearly a day to understand all those weird thoughts. All of those strange faces, the insides of a shabby house, a small girl with red hair, a twisted tree much like the Whomping Willow were fragments of his memories.

Those emotions that pushed her towards holding him in her arms only grew stronger by the hour. But then she was once Hermione Granger, a girl who thought elves were being taken advantage of and campaigned for their rights even when the whole school mocked her. Turning the knob with one hand, he looked back at her and mimicked her previous gesture. Bringing his hand up, he murmured," Can we rest for a while, Madam Snape?"

Entering the bedroom, Severus deliberately kept his eyes on his young wife, while both of them undressed slowly. Nothing much, just the robes and the boots and perhaps the sweaters or just the dress tumbled one by one and gathered themselves in a heap over the foot bench. He just didn't wish to be reminded about how painful the bed itself had become when they had slept on it for the last time. If they were to lay side by side, he wanted to hold on to the thought, he was doing it with her, the rest didn't matter for the time being.

Pulling off the covers from both sides, they eased themselves on the bed. Suddenly it became too natural for them to spoon against each other. He wanted to hear her heartbeat and she wanted to massage his aching head. Dragging her fingers over his scalp, putting pressure once in a while, she watched his eyes flutter shut and heard something close to purring. She thought, Well I guessed it right, a big cat, he is nothing but a big wild black cat. Scrunching his face, he murmured aloud," don't you dare confuse me with your flat-faced ginger ball."

She blurted out,"Is it okay?"

Confused, he asked, "What?"

"The fact that I am holding you like this?"

Allowing a shuddering breath to escape his lips, he nodded and whispered against her chest," I...don't remember any one holding me like this before."

"Does that make you hate this situation?"

"Does it make you hate me?" he tried again to find some lingering doubts in her mind.

"I...can't love you right away, but I would like to go along with whatever this is."

"I see."

She couldn't think of anything to add to that, so she just held on to him tighter. His hands had twined together around her petite body.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Even after getting to flip through all my memories, without my knowledge, you have more to learn from me?"

Stiffening slightly she countered," I didn't do anything deliberately. They just tumbled over. Umm, I kept seeing a giant ice wall, is that your mental shield?"

"So it looks like a wall of ice. I hope it is freezing cold as well."

Tugging at his hair, making him wince slightly, she ignored that comment and said," You knew about Professor Lupin, didn't you?"

Chuckling and rubbing his face on her chest for good measure, he propped his head upon his elbow and looked down at her," You will be the death of me one of these days. What you can't see, you make your big brain run over the clue, again and again, to come up with plausible conclusions. Yes, I knew about him being a descendant of a powerful magical family. And no I didn't think I should say or do anything about it. I was neck-deep among death eaters or to be death eaters. And I can be anything, but I am not Sirius Black. I can't bring myself to become the cause of someone's death just because how, who or what me is. and I was still a student. And later on, I just couldn't. That man had tried hard throughout the rest of his life to mend bridges. He needed a friend, much like I did. James Potter and Sirius Black just happened to be there for him to grab on. Just like I had Lily Evans."

"So why did you try to tell us about him being the werewolf?"

Narrowing his eyes, he muttered," I wanted to come back at Albus. Yes, Remus Lupin was an exceptional student and perhaps a brilliant DADA teacher. But tell me, Hermione was it truly a fair decision to keep him as a teacher with hundreds of unsuspecting students around?"

"Did Dumbledore ask you to make Professor Lupin the wolfsbane potion from the very beginning?"

Arching his brows he drawled," Did you forget the fact that I did not sleep a wink for the last two days?"

Looking quite apologetic, she still needed one answer. She shook her head understandingly. "But you told him that night after he came back to you with more questions, didn't you?"

Playing with a few strands of her chestnut hair, he heaved a long sigh," I did. I had to. It was the right thing to do. After he nearly attacked me in the Shack during our 6th year, he had tried hard to apologize. But the Slytherins were watching me closely. I had to ignore him. Remus and I have..had a strange friendship. After Lily's death, he contacted me and told me about Sirius Black. I had doubts about Pettigrew's death... Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I would like to tell you a lot of things. I have managed to handle so much all by myself, but I don't think I have any strength left to see through this war. I wanted to die. But then you came in. And suddenly, I am looking forward to living a life. Actually, I am making an effort to enjoy it. I think, in a way, I am asking you to help me?"

Hermione had smiled back at him and patted over her chest, inviting him to lay on it once again. Snuggling into her warmth, he hummed to himself. He could feel the vibration of her words as she said gently," I think you are trying to tell me to be right next to you. And I know from where all this is coming. You miss Dumbledore, Harry's mom, or what little friendship you had with her, you miss Remus as well, and now that they are no more…" squeezing her tight, blinking away his tears, he whispered over her heart," I need you."

Huffing, trying to think something funny and endearing,she murmured back," Crooks was a smart boy." He was already half asleep but he had to always have the last say," I can safely say, I am smarter than a cat the size of my boots."

* * *

It was much later that Ginny Malfoy had cast the Silencio spell over her ceiling, on her walls, and on her door. And after doing that, she had gone back to sitting on the floor of her familiar bedroom and cried her heart out. She had heard the other couple. It was gross but she couldn't bring herself to put the spell soon enough. Their moans and jostling made her crave for him instead. And she kept cursing herself for not looking at him while they sealed their bind. She wanted to see his face, watch over those eyes to grow dark with passion, enjoy the way he would spasm and heave and grunt. What would it be like having the power to make Draco Malfoy go down on his knees?

Everything seemed so empty and not for one single moment could she envision Harry. It did start with a mop of unkempt hair, but the blackness dulled away into stark platinum blonde and right below those fringes, his stormy eyes kept looking back at her, pleading to heed to his crying heart.

How damaged was he? How far desperate was he, that he could not even stop for a second to think before jabbing the burning wood on his dark mark? This was madness, but then he seriously didn't wish to kill himself. No, or else he would have...Shaking her head she decided not to think about the alternate consequences. She hated it. At first, she hated the fact that she could no longer think of Harry. Then, it turned into utter torture because now, she just could not stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. It was not just due to the bond that she felt remorseful. She felt degraded by her own selfishness.

And above everything, he wanted her to believe him. Someone who had always been a blood traitor to him, was supposed to believe that he had grown out of his snobbish act? Perhaps, it was true. He was as damaged by this war, like everyone else. Maybe Astoria's words made sense. But she expected Malfoy to throw a feat. Call the Auror department and the Ministry officials and point the blaming pale finger at her. Yell on top of his voice, blaming her for everything. Instead, he just asked George to take her away. Just like that.

Did she want to go back and ask him the reason behind all of this? But for once in her life, Ginny could not put it in words what she was going to say to him. And there was another dread slowly rearing its head up. What if he decided to end his life, all alone? But he couldn't afford to do that could he? This bond would not allow him to. Glancing back at the ring, she watched the rays of the afternoon sun reflect over the small red stones and whispered," Who are you, Draco Malfoy?"

Her words had reached him. Never for once did she stop asking that question. But things were raw and too overwhelming. On one hand, he wanted to rush to wherever she was and hug her close. He desired to see his reflection burning in her lovely eyes. He wanted to paint the world with shades of red. Even though the morning looked reddish, the orb of the sun which crept up was pinkish and the orangish sky was red. George Weasley's hair and his t-shirt which were two shades away from her unique reddish waves of curls. Throwing the covers off, he padded down to his workshop ignoring those nasty looks Dorsie gave him from the kitchen. He would deal with her shortly.

As he sat on his work table, he studied his ring finger. He felt her guilt roar in his ears. He felt those constant flowing streams of tears too. But Ginny would have to come to him all by herself. All he had to do was wait. He couldn't bring himself up to look at her after he woke up. It was already too difficult to exist, under her scornful gaze. He could not stay alive in the shadows of her pity.

Shaking those depressing thoughts he wondered about his Godfather and laughed hard. Granger suited him like a well-fitted glove. When he had sat down to work on her necklace, he had rolled his eyes thinking it would land in the flames of the fireplace eventually. Though the way Snape countered both Shacklebolt and his own cross-questioning, was satisfyingly odd. He had been possessive about her. He demanded that people were respecting her enough. Well, that was new. Bringing out the pouch from the drawer next to his working table, he carefully emptied its content over the board.

There were two vials in it. But his eyes hovered over just one of them. He could feel the familiar pull of Snape's magic radiating from it. This strain of magic had been along with him since he could remember. It was the protection of a guarding godfather. Even then the primary ingredient of the vial was blood itself. Pure and fresh, perhaps the glass container carried a permanent stasis charm. Carefully uncorking the mix, he dropped the contents inside four crystal-like substances. One would go and join those several small pendants around his godfather's neck. One would most likely belong to Potter. The third one he wanted to give to Fleur Weasley when the time came. But the last one, he wanted to keep for himself. Whispering under his breath, for the first time that day, Draco Malfoy smiled to himself, "And little one you must have a brother of your own kind to fall back to."


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

Chapter 42

Suffering from insomnia for years together, Severus Snape managed to sleep only for two and a half hours. Easing himself from his wife's arms, he propped himself on his elbows and watched her intently. He recalled Fawkes cryptic words, _"...some will feel the same things, read through the minds and think in the same ways, some would respond through pain and pleasure alone and some would join together through laughter and mirth, and for others, it will be the game of wit and passion. Soul magic, rare still, is the magic that fits with absolute perfection."_

Absolute perfection. These two words stood out in his grappling mind. As if finally in his ever-spiraling life, someone had figured out the way to put a stop to the proverbial ever-rolling-barrel and awarded him a moment of breath. Life had its own demands and too much was resting on his shoulders. But Hermione was not Minerva, neither was she Albus, nor Draco and most definitely, she was not Lily Evans nee Potter.

She baffled him each time she said something. With every touch, she ended up saying those thousand words he would wish to hear. With the blink of an eye, she moved mountains off his path. Even without giving his heart to her, Snape could feel her fingers caressing over the ever beating organ. At least he was lucky enough to hide away some memories from her. For example, the ones that were born right after seeing Lavender Zabini's blazing scars from across the screens. In the depths of his mind, he had mixed the images of Gabrielle's tortured body bleeding profusely after childbirth, with that of the Brown girl's mangled body and in some grotesque manner the whole image had turned into that of his wife!

Blinking away, he ran his knuckles gently across her jawline, feeling her softness, and her rolling magic underneath. Within a span of just two days, Hermione Granger nee Snape had managed to make him behave like a normal human being. If anyone would tell him this was love, he might end up miming the offender. Because Severus Snape wanted to worship her first. He wanted to bask in her warm affection. He desired to be the man befitting to stand beside Madam Snape. He wanted to become the subject of her conscious thoughts and also her cozy dreams. He wanted to fall in love with her, slowly, gradually, like the tides of the ocean and like the waning and waxing moon.

Whispering into the late evening air of the dungeon, he looked up and bit his bottom lip. Previously he was so engrossed in watching her peel off his dress that he completely ignored the concave ceiling glowing with the greenish tinge. A school of fish was peering down from above, perhaps trying to figure out what lay on the other side of the magical barrier. Leaning down, he placed his lips gently over her brows. And whispered across her temple," You make me realize the hunger that comes with the word, more."

Quietly, dressing back into his signature clothes, he made his way out of the bedroom. Stopping at his potions cabinet for a couple of minutes, armed with some more vials, he went looking for his guest. Minerva McGonagall had been in the living area of the guest quarters, reading a book while her sipping evening tea. She took a moment to notice Severus standing beside the open glass door and signaled him in.

As he settled on the other end of the couch, she smirked," I figured out my animagus years before you decided to try your hand at it. A cat is a cat, you cannot try that sneaking trick on me, then looking at him carefully, she added," Well, at least there is an improvement, you slept for two hours straight."

Slightly affronted, Snape huffed," What makes you think that?"

"Oh, well, you, your brooding self and that wretched armchair of yours are inseparable, Severus. I can tell how many nights you have even slept on your bed in a week! I could always tell! At least you look fresh and this freshness is neither glamour induced or aid by potions. Now, what made you come looking for me in the first place?"

Turning slightly, facing the Scottish woman, he stapled his fingers over his propped up knee and drawled," I need to hear all about this marriage law and don't waste your time in parroting those filthy forms the ministry forced everyone to sign... I need to know what it didn't mention and I am certain, it must be a hell lot."

Pretending to be surprised, she asked," And this couldn't wait for dinner?"

He simply answered," No, this cannot wait any longer, than it already has."

Heaving a sigh, putting away her reading glasses, Minerva looked at the burning fireplace for some time and then uttered," I know you are sharp enough. Yes, it is just a variation of est vinculum animarum…"

Snape gasped," You managed to enact 'the bond of souls'!" He got up abruptly and took to pacing, throwing angry glances at the other. Minerva tried to pacify the man," Tell me what were we supposed to do? Shacklebolt was beyond himself. The ministry had overnight nominated him as the next minister of Magic and even if Amelia Bones was the other contender, she was too happy to let him run the show. Every single one of them came down to my secluded hospital room pleading. Greyback had about ten to fifteen small packs of rogue werewolves attacking throughout the country. How else were we going to save everyone who escaped and came knocking at the ministry for shelter? Our holding houses are full, the safes houses are packed. Even Gringotts have extended their goblin colonies to shelter the refugees. Very soon perhaps the ministry will turn to Hogwarts."

Snape had stood still and slowly lowered himself on the couch, panic evident in his voice," What are you talking about?"

Pursing her lips Minerva just said," We have barely managed to evade mass extinction, Severus. Greyback, like Lupin, had predicted, does have malicious plans. He wants to rule the magic world. And if he can have his way, it will be worse than what Voldemort could have brought upon us, if he won. Though I doubt he knows anything about his origins. You were just made aware of the Parkinsons and the Greengrass. And Draco and Lupin had managed to handle the Staghorn Lair situation, well, of course, extracting the baby girl was a feat in itself."

"You knew!"

"About Miss Gabrielle and the girl. Shacklebolt kept me updated, but I insisted that he better not tell me anything about where the child is until I was back at Hogwarts. Even walls have ears, remember? Severus, more than that, I was more worried about not allowing Greyback to win. While you stayed hidden within these walls working with Neville Longbottom on the new variation of Wolfsbane potion, Shacklebolt, Madam Bones, and I, we had been busy. I won't say, we were prepared, Severus, rather we have been lucky on all the fronts."

"The Aurors department has been working in shifts to patrol every bit of magical Britain and our muggle relations office have alerted the Muggle law enforcement department. And it has come to our notice that even the Goblins have employed their own guards to botch any further attack. Severus, we found out, Greyback had literally kidnapped several half-blood and muggle-born witches and wizards. Some of the least affected cases were held captive in Staghorn Lair. And from there the Auror got clues which led them to other secret lairs of the Alpha."

Bones told me, it was horrid. Men, women children, he intends to turn everyone into his kind. He wants to dictate the world. We had to put down several, who could not be saved. And Longbottom's unique cure will start getting administered on those who narrowly escaped, once you have given your approval. But we need to find a permanent solution to this one. Or our own will turn against us and we will be completely defenseless. Do you think he is able to mentally control those affected people?"

"Magical creatures who roam about in packs might show such tendencies. I mean, Remus believed that to be the case as well. But I am wondering how will this marriage law and its underlying marital bond save us?"

Tapping her fingers over the closed book, Minerva McGonagall stared at him for a while. Inhaling sharply, she asked," What do you know about the _est vinculum animarum spell_ , and what have you learned about it ever since both Madam Snape and you have succeeded in sealing the bond?"

It ticked then, mechanically Snape blurted out Fawkes riddled words,". _..some will feel the same things, read through the minds and think in the same ways, some would respond through pain and pleasure alone and some would join together through laughter and mirth, and for others, it will be the game of wit and passion. Soul magic, rare still, is the magic that fits with absolute perfection. Your magic is anchored in your spouse and vice versa. The more accustomed you become with each other, the more you are able to yield it._ But that is not all, is it?"

"No, Severus, that is not all. Tell me from your only experiences of these past few days, things, subtle but odd enough. Think of Hermione."

Furrowing his brows he started to tick off points mentally," We can feel, sense, hear each other through our minds. I don't have to introduce myself, instead, she can now catch up with my thoughts easily. SHe can break through all the wards and she has figured out my animagus form all by itself."

"And the stronger that bond will be, the easier would be to reach one another. It is something close to the mental connection which we are fearing Greyback is exercising. But there are added benefits. Since each pair exhibits similar magical capacities, when they would team up, they can cast more powerful spells."

"You mean to say, if I am good at Defense against Dark Arts, Hermione…"

"Yes, Hermione has shown herself exceptionally well in all those fields you excel in. She has also shown interest in learning occlumency and legilimency and I have decided to teach her animagus transformation in the meantime."

Rubbing his cheek, feeling the shadow of evening stubble, he mused," I was planning to teach her those skills. Good thing she brought it up to you. Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"What do the goblins want?"

"They are of the opinion that our times will soon be over if we don't work together to revive Old Magic."

Peering into the fireplace, she spoke gravely, making Snape feel uncomfortable once again," It means things have been happening in a certain sequence which we have failed to notice, lost bloodlines and families are going to resurface. We, wizards, are certain of our stance in this war, but this war is not about just wizards and witches, is it? If we are to analyze the folklore of Red Riding Hood, on one hand, there are a bunch of Veelas seething to get revenge, on the other ruthless shapeshifting wolves immoral and beastly, in the middle are two star-crossed intended lovers and a prophecy. And in all of this, we are trapped. Under the circumstances, tell me Severus what would be the most logical thing for us to do?"

Snape felt a chill run down his spine, as he mumbled," We stand by Schwarze Nacht and Rouge, and somehow stop Greyback...but…"

Minerva had leaned forward. Snape saw her eyes burn brightly as she replied," Not but, AND, and we stop him by surrounding him, trapping him from three sides- on one side there would be the veelas, on one side we ourselves and Severus you know who are going to form the third front of our defense."

Gripping the edge of the couch, he found his head reeling, his heart beating too fast, he started seeing stars behind his eyes."Merlin's sake! Minnie, those are small babies, orphans, must we always sacrifice innocent children!"

"Theatrics don't suit you Snape, who are innocent harmless children today, will become formidable warriors in years to come. I am not Albus Dumbledore, Severus, I will not throw unsuspecting children into the fire and leave it to them to figure out a way to save themselves. We will find a way to teach them and train them. Yes, it is ironic that a daughter will stand against her father, but we need to focus on the singular fact, that she must stand with the light, with the Order of Phoenix, with the just and we would need a Lupine to restate the balance of magic."

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A/N: Drop a word, if you wish. 


	43. Chapter 43

coming soon


	44. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters. 

**Chapter 43**

After giving Minerva her medicines and potions Severus Snape had diligently helped her back into the bedroom and left when she finally started snoozing. Instead of going into his bedroom where he believed Hermione was still sleeping, he walked into his private lab adjoining his study. As he watched the several potions bubbling in the cauldron, he grinned to himself. 

_ Minerva McGonagall hated mystery. No wonder she was a cat and that to a very curious one. He had to bite the insides of his cheek, when he had nearly blurted out,” Curiosity killed the cat.” She couldn’t even let a day go by and had finally succumbed to the urge to know how and why and when the guest quarters were built. He had scoffed,” Just because you have lived in a tower for the entirety of your tenure in Hogwarts and seen the Slytherins bundled away in their dungeons does not mean we don’t crave for sunlight!” _

_ “Severus, don’t get me wrong, but the fact that this wing never revealed itself even to me is a mystery. I am the deputy headmistress after all.” _

_ Pursing his lips, Snape supplied,” If you so insist, I will tell you, these quarters are as old as the school is. And why it is so easy to forget that most of the students of my house came from affluent families, who have sprawling mansions and graves, orchards and gardens of their own. If the head of the house or the founder himself was expecting guests he would like to house them in a room with a magnificent view charmed or not!” The woman had huffed and glowered at him before fluffing her pillow and turning her back to him, pretending to look quite annoyed.  _

The feeling of lightheartedness evaporated the moment he remembered the cruel indication, Minerva had said there were several people who needed this new variation of wolfsbane,  _ how many was she hinting at?  _

They had left the Caislean Crochta hours ago. He was aware he wouldn’t be able to go there, but in case Mrs. Zabini needed medication, he would have to ensure the potions were ready for either Blaise or Kingsley to pick up. He realized he missed Lupin. Clucking his tongue he cursed over the fumes, in those early days when the newly DADA professor pestered him with mindless stories about how his classes were going on, how he enjoyed watching the kids learning new spells and coming to epiphanies on a daily basis, he wished him dead, like James Potter. 

It had taken him a week after the full moon and a sudden chance to see the man sitting alone over the stump of the dead tree in the middle of the Forbidden forest crying and sniveling to himself to understand the acuteness of his lonely existence. Since then, he had begun tolerating Remus Lupin’s presence. Even if he had his legacy in mind, Severus never, even for once, had tried to make the man, in second hand, stitched up clothes, discover it. Lupin was an anomaly in Albus Dumbledore’s camp and had already drawn the Dark Lord’s attention by simply existing. 

Only he could have guided the potion master with those little details. Lavender was a young werewolf without a guide or a mentor. She had Blaise to lean on. But a direwolf could help her with her wolfish affectation, the area of training herself as a werewolf lay unattended. His eyes had drifted to the black almirah in the furthest corner of the long room. It had housed several of the important memories, and valuable documents and books. Among them lay Remus Lupin’s journal, or what Snape would like to call it “the Lupin chronicles.” It was meant for Ted Lupin. The dead father wanted the son to use it and document his own life. Harry could have had it, but Lupin wanted Snape to hold on to it. The man had shoved it in Snape’s hand hours before they were to raid Staghorn Lair. He had literally pleaded,” Keep it somewhere safe and then join us at Grimmauld Place. Just in case...you can use it to help the others and well, Harry can also hold on to it, since Ted is too young. It is for Ted ultimately. But Snape, Mate, don’t let anyone else touch it.”

He will have to wait for Shacklebolt to find a safe way to communicate with the Claysmiths. The door to his laboratory clicked open and her scent whiffed inside, dominating over those several fuming cauldrons and greeted him. Despite himself, he chuckled. Turning his face and resting it on his shoulder, he murmured,” Can’t keep you away, can I?”

Hermione was leaning on the door frame, undecided, biting her bottom lip ferociously. Her eyes were puffed up, her cheeks colored, but she was shivering with tension. Heaving a sigh, Snape waved his hand and said,” You can come in.”

He watched his wife studying his lab like a young girl visiting the fair for the first time. Watching the cauldrons attentively, she mumbled,” You were gone for too long, your thoughts were dark and murky, it frightened me enough to come looking for you. Why did you think of dead bodies of men, women, and children piled up together and a group of aurors setting them on fire?”

Instead of answering her question, he studied her minutely and said,” There is something in me that is constantly asking me to trust you with my secrets, tell you everything I ever saw, hear, felt, or even dreamt of…”

She whispered,” It is the bond, that is making you do such things…I overheard, I don't remember reading about est vinculum animarum…”

When her husband had straightened up and winced, Hermione was by his side at once kneading his shoulders. He had hummed at the touch and when she allowed her fingers to massage his scalp, threading through the lightly greased long black hair, he purred again, making her smirk. It intrigued him, so he whispered,” How did you know I needed it?”

Lifting her shoulders she replied, standing close to him,” I didn’t know, I felt it.”

Snape opened his eyes and looked at her, thoughtful,” We should document everything about this bond. It will be helpful for others afterward.”

Hermione bit her lips again, drawing his eyes to them and blushed. But she agreed,” Because we are a hundred percent match and we are the first case.”

Amused by her choice of words, he arched his brow and licked his dried lips,” Clinically speaking, yes, Madam Snape.” Dragging a spare stool close to him, he patted over it and gestured to her to take a seat. When she sat down and tucked her fingers below her legs, slightly swinging her body, he grinned,” Go ahead. Ask them. I have an hour before two of the left-hand side caldrons will need my attention.”

Hermione shook her head and then schooled her features,” Before the Battle of Hogwarts or even after it, how did you communicate with Shacklebolt?”

She saw the corner of his eyes cringe, but then he brought something out of his pocket. Grabbing her hand, he placed something over her open palm. A galleon. Hermione just had the time to gasp, but her husband was already speaking,” Impressive Madam Snape. Very Impressive, I must say. But I am not the thief. It is Draco Lucius Malfoy who nicked a couple of these from the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and brought them to me. I held on to them just in case. I knew I could communicate through Headmaster Black, but these could have served as a backup plan. In the case of Shacklebolt they did. Though I had to tweak a bit with the spell and adjust it to my liking. Now that I think of it, it should have occurred to me how easily your spell gave in and agreed to my adjustments. Draco has one on his person and I have another. And the minister has his. And now, only you are aware of this little secret. So tell me what are you going to do about it?”

Huffing and then smirking back at him, Hermione had innocently replied,” Were you saying something all this while Professor, I watched your lips move, but I think something is wrong with my ears, I couldn’t hear a word of what you said…” she couldn’t carry on with the act and started giggling, rocking the stool hard enough. She would have toppled if Snape had not grabbed her arm and steadied her immediately. 

She managed to look guilty and muttered a soft  _ thank you _ . He must have thought the words,  _ your parents _ ...loud enough because Hermione’s hand had flown up to his mouth covering it in response. He did not wait for her to say, “not now”, instead, pulled her close into his arms and allowed her to ease within his embrace. He watched the burner below the nearest cauldron while his witch sniffed and rubbed her face over his robes and then whispered another  _ thank you _ . He smiled into her bushy hair and murmured,” I have been told quite often, I am a good listener.” She thought back, _ I will remember that, as of now, I am filling up that information for future reference _ . Snape had thought back,  _ in that misty maze of your mighty mind _ . 

Hermione peered up at him interested,” So it looks like a mist.” her husband had just nodded and asked, “the next question?”

Resting her head on his shoulders she ventured, sounding a little hurt,” Why did you not tell me that my assumption about ‘the big bad wolf’ being a werewolf was correct?” First, he just thought back,  _ you are intuitive but naive, you will need to gather more experience, you will need to learn much more and that too in such a short time to become my equal. I would have wanted you to be just you, but this war wants you to be my equal and will settle for nothing less. _

Making an effort to comfort her, he traced her knuckles with his long fingers and spoke aloud,” I kept quiet and did not acknowledge it because I wanted you to react as expected. At least the others should be expecting you to be in the dark. I am known to be a private man and I should not be sharing every single insight with my wife of two days, should I? Though we were so comfortable around all of them, that even Longbottom sensed it. My silence didn’t payout at the end.”

She mumbled again,” Why did you start reading about wolves?” sitting straighter, looking directly into his molten black eyes, she urged,” The truth this time, please.”

Her plea sounded more like a prayer to him. People have prayed to him through the years. But he had always succeeded in bringing them down to their knees before ripping their ego or life into shreds. But today the conqueror became the conquest himself. Threading his fingers in between her smaller ones, he squeezed once. He never left the desire to touch Lily with such urgency. Perhaps, she wasn’t really meant for him. 

Blinking away those long lost pangs of remorse, he replied,” Because, from the very beginning, Remus Lupin was an odd one out. Everyone thought that the Marauders, those four Gryffindors had singled me out. But it was more like James Potter had singled me out. Sirius Black had singled me out. Peter Pettigrew was a brainless pawn. He was always like that. But Remus Lupin was absolutely different from all of them. I could feel his power championing over all of them. And I couldn’t find any logical explanation as to why he chose to hide behind Potter and Black instead of leading them. Even when he joined those three to laugh at my expense, he did it unwillingly. I could always tell it because his eyes never lied.”

When she asked, confused,” His eyes?”, Snape looked at her with all the tenderness he could muster,’ Yes, his eyes. I don’t remember seeing such poignantly sad but intelligent and innocent eyes before I saw Neville Longbottom sweating under the sorting Hat.” 

Smiling brightly, Hermione squeezed his hand and asked,” Neville Longbottom, I remember you hating him all through my school years, and now you both talk about each other like those seven years of potion classes was just a nightmare, and I just woke up in a parallel universe!”

Snape’s lips had curled up and said,” I will tell you about what was what, now that there is no use hiding it from you of all the people, but I think I heard your stomach rumble, shall we continue this after dinner and of course after I have added the next ingredients to those bubbly purple concoctions over there?”

His wife had stood up, kissing the small patch of sweating skin in between his brows and quietly left him to himself. He sat there feeling dizzy and giddy. Her smell, her touch, and her words which rang even after she had closed the door of the lab softly made him grip his chest and blush. She had said, _you never cease to wonder me._


	45. Chapter 44

The disclaimer: the same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 44**

The night descended upon Hogwarts much as it used to during the breaks. The empty castle groaned and belched as the drafts of wind merrily run through its crevices and broken windows, and doors. The remaining witches and wizards could only mend the walls with the residual magic they could call upon. It was remarkable under these circumstances, that the Ravenclaw Tower stood as proudly as the Gryffindor and the Head Master's office and quarters. The dungeons were naturally safe because the castle held to its grounds refusing to bow to the megalomaniac's demands. The Hufflepuffs section was yet another mystery.

Perhaps it was Madam Pomona Sprouts endless devotion to herbs and plants and her badgers' natural affinity to protect the plant and animal world, that Mother Nature to it upon herself to grow extensively throughout that section to cordon off that wing from others. Severus could only reach till the kitchens and check upon the elves. He was made aware that several of the faithful keepers of the school were wounded and few become martyrs. But Ob, the master of the Elves rigidly shut to his point," We are not leaving Headmaster, our oath stays to serve the school. And Ob will die serving it till the very end. As for our wounded, we are taken care of. The castle knows to take care of its own." The elves loved to talk in riddles, but Snape picked up those subtle nudges of the master-elves shoulders. It was also drawing his attention towards the furthest wall. A common-looking brick and mortar wall which the kitchen incidentally happened to share with the Hufflepuff staff corridor. He had squinted his eyes at that, and the elf had offered him a curt nod.

Poppy Pomphrey would have to come back as well. She was currently serving as a voluntary mediwitch at 's. That woman just couldn't stop caring for others. When Snape had suggested her, before heading to Staghorn Lair," Poppy, you should consider going underground as well…" the mediwitch had fumed. The remaining of the wounded were already transferred to other holding houses and safe shelters of the Order or of the ministry. She simply said," I am going to be at Mungo's for a while." And had flooed away, giving a final look over to the empty hospital wing.

After a quiet dinner, Hermione had excused herself, while Severus went back to the lab to attend the waiting caldrons. Adding the roots of the lady's mantle to the bubbling mix, he adjusted the flame of the burner and thought Poppy could investigate the Hufflepuff segment. She was a Hufflepuff. It did strike him odd that even the greenhouses were covered with poisonous creepers making the area impenetrable in all possible ways. He was dying to know what lay within both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff entrances. More so, he badly wanted both Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprouts to be safe. There was another thing niggling in his mind. Shacklebolt had pointed out the low numbers of members of both the houses unaccounted for. What was worse, they were still to locate the room of requirement.

Hagrid had extended his hut with the help of some of the students to make rooms for Flich and Mrs. Norris. Now, together they patrolled the entire property with Fang trailing behind. Nothing jumped out of the shadows. And while they picked their way through the dark and high corridors of Hogwarts, accompanied by eager elves at times, the grounds had found its own guardians. The creatures of the Forbidden Forest were both able to see and hear Fawkes and Swmg flying in elaborate cycles renewing the protective charms. But to the Keeper of the grounds and the caretaker of Hogwarts, it looked like a burning phoenix surrounded by dark tendrils of his shadow flying overhead.

A knock on the office door had alerted Snape of both of their presence. A glance at the clock told him, this visit had nothing to with exchanging pleasantries. It was Argus Filch, Fang looked over his shoulder and Madam Norris peered at the potion master from between the caretaker's boots. He motioned the three inside. But both the cat and the boarhound stationed themselves at the door, after giving the Slytherin a welcoming nudge and licked his palm.

Argus stood in front of him stilling glances at the closed door of his private quarters. Severus supplied," Madam Snape is fine and you would be glad to know, Madam McGonagall has joined us as well."

Argus's eyes had bulged and then he exclaimed," But she can't stay at the Gryffindor Towers."

"And she is not going to stay there for some time. She will stay here, with us. She is doing just fine, recovering faster" The caretaker's shoulders relaxed, but just a bit. Remembering the real reason for seeking Snape in the first place, he managed to say," The castle and the grounds are quiet. But Mrs. Norris keeps looking at the barrels by the kitchen oddly. I can't hear anything. But today even Fang barked at those barrels and sniffed over them, till he managed to bump his nose into something, drenching all three of us in vinegar. The creepers cover the section still. But I wanted to know, can this be possible?"

Snape subtly sniffed the air and inspected the gangly man in front of him and mused," So the spell to keep out outsiders is in place. Last time, I could not manage to reach the barrels. Interesting. We can go down in the morning after breakfast and inspect the area together. I think Minerva would also like to look for herself, the Ravenclaw tower, and the Gryffindor Tower."

The caretaker had bobbed his head at that," Ay, she should, she is still Hogwarts, Deputy Headmistress. But, she shouldn't stress herself too much. Hogwarts needs her. The kitchen was bustling today."

"We had visitors. We will continue to have visitors, Argus. The school might not be in session for some time. But we need…"

The caretaker had fisted his hands and passionately uttered," We need those mutts gone for good, Sir. Goodnight to you Sir. Hagrid is keeping a watch all alone, I will join him now. The castle seemed to protect us like a mother hen. But you are aware of it. Call us if you need anything. Anything, even if you need us to go to Hogsmeade. One of us can always do that. And…tell, Minerva 'Hello'. Mrs. Norris missed her the most." The caretaker and the two animals made an odd group. Severus realized instead of feeling unsettled, he felt oddly protective about them.

When he walked inside the bedroom, he found his wife coming out of the bathroom ready for bed. He had just turned halfway towards the dresser where he kept his nightshirts when she offered him a pair of new ones.

"I found them among Minerva's gift box, these are softer and at least better than that thousand holes tattered nightshirt of yours." Her insistent tone worked. He took the clothing but not without brushing his fingers over hers.

He drawled, "You went through my stuff as well."

She glowered, hiding those tell-tale signing of attraction behind her eyes," Only when I was certain, your wards won't leave me paralyzed and no, I did not touch your books. I swear."

Settling under the covers they faced each other unsure of themselves. Hermione tucked her hair away from her face and asked politely," Can you tell me more about Professor Lupin?"

* * *

To every other witch and wizard, Kingsley Shacklebolt was now the iron-handed formidable Minister of Magic. He had earned his respect in this world the hard way. But in his own cottage left to him by his parents, Kingsley was a caring husband and a doting father. Returning to the quiet home, which would either smell of Cynthia's baked muffins or cookies and musical notes floating down from Amanda's room where his girl would practice fiddling with her violin, the huge man had fallen to his knees and wept over the bear rug. As long as he had his mind occupied with the worries of the magical society, he could hold on to his sanity. But he dreaded being alone. He dreaded fighting his own demons.

He wasn't Severus Snape. He didn't have that kind of tenacity to bear on the burden of guilt and fuel his determination with it. He had lost several colleagues while still being an Auror. It came with that job. But this war had hit home, rocked his own sanctuary, and dismantled his personal defenses. The Zabinis were still formal and Cynthia…he could only manage to muffle his deep howls by biting on to the fur harder. He missed his wife's arms.

_He didn't dare to climb up the stairs. He couldn't bring himself to walk up to his daughter's room. He had taken up residence in the ground floor guest bedroom. Adjoining to the study. He could manage to blissfully forget the existence of another floor above his head. Blaise had helped his shift. The man didn't ask or comment about it. He had just levitated some of the boxes. While the Minister sat at the foot of the stair, nursing his wounded feet._

_The nephew had next flooed called Poppy Pomphrey. The Hogwarts medi-witch had come down immediately and attended the wounds. The wall next to the kitchen in the meantime got fixed by the quiet young man waving his wands and mumbling under his breath. While the giant man watched him dispassionately the medi wtich offered her own explanation," Your things are arranged in the guest bedroom. And Blaise Zabini has a knack for architecture. Though his family is inclined to the perfume-making business. He had been appearing at my office with nicks and cuts that screamed out his peculiar interest."_

_Kingsley gaped at her and said," Amanda wants to be a healer and a dressmaker, she also wants to be a Musician and a globe trotter. And they tell me, they couldn't find my baby. I hate this Poppy, I hate…either she is…or she is hiding. My baby is a fighter, I am telling you. She is not dead." Digging into his pockets, he brought out a piece of jewelry. It was a jade stone with a couple of golden rings tied to it from both ends." Poppy, we bought it for her as a coming of age gift. She would never part with it. Wore it around her wrist. There were seven stones. Around."_

_Poppy had gasped," And you have one. This looks like an artifact. So, if anyone plans to steal it and sell it…"_

_Jerking his head," No, not possible, I will feel it, I will know of it. It binds our bloodlines together. It is my tribe's heirloom." Gripping his shoulders, the medi witch stared hard," Then continue, doing your job, Kingsley. We too are your family. Our world is threatened and reduced to a handful, but don't you dare abandon hope. Several of us are looking up at you for guidance. And I promise you, Cynthia will be back home, before you know it. Just hang in there. Albus counted on you. And in the same manner, we all do."_

It had been a handful of weeks. Poppy's personal elf Nobit and Shacklebolt family's own house-elf, Gen were of great help. His robes were clean and arranged, he food warm and in front of him. And his room clean and tidy. It was not out of place to feel two pairs of hands helping him up from the floor and settling him over the crouch. He heard the fireplace crackle because someone was adding more dry logs to it and eased into the warm blanket placed over him. To voices whispered close to his ears before he fell asleep," good night Minister."

Cynthia Shacklebolt was propped up against her pillows, while Poppy Pomphrey was reading the Magical Geographic journal allowed to the patient. They both heaved a sigh when Nobit apparated in front of them with a pop and nodded," Minister sleeps like a babe. Nobit will go back in the morning and help Gen in making breakfast." Poppy immediately scribbled a note and stuffed it in the elf's waiting hands. And Cynthia smiled, addressing the knowing elf," He has a way of forgetting himself in his work, so make sure he eats all that before leaving early in the morning." The elf tsked and muttered, disapprovingly," Men, do they ever grow up?" The women threw back their heads and laughed aloud and offered," No, Never."

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A/N: Even the Banyan Tree needs several roots to rest its weight on...I thought, adding the Minister's personal life was important since he too will become an important part of the following chapters. 


	46. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 45**

Propping himself on his elbow, Severus watched his wife's ears follow his moments minutely. He waited for them to come back and rest on his face and began," The incident at the Shrieking Shack had shaken me up badly. For days and nights put together, I couldn't manage to close my eyes or say a word. Poppy was always there, beside me, helping me with things. My roommates could not access my books. I had been a magnet for pranks since the day I set foot in this castle wearing ill-fitting school uniforms, which did not go well with my affluent housemates. It was Narcissa Black who had taken the initiative to help me through the period. Though she always kept her distance.

She had appointed Regulus Black, her cousin to get me my books and help me with the class lessons, which he later confessed were handed over to him by both Lily and Remus Lupin. To this day, I never could bring myself to ask what made this pack exist in the first place. But, I am thankful that I did. A week later, when I could visit the bathroom unassisted, Regulus brought in two letters, along with the lessons of the day. One was from Lily and the other from Narcissa."

Hermione thought better, she turned on her stomach and propped her head on her palms and asked," What did those letters say?"

Looking back at her he replied," Nothing much. Lily had written, 'Remus says sorry.' And Narcissa wrote,' You have more friends to count on if you quit looking over your shoulders and start paying attention to your own housemates." That afternoon I was summoned into the headmaster's office and the four Marauders were present along with our head of the houses. Poppy had tagged along with me and insisted on being present on my behalf. You can say, the whole thing was already decided upon. Dumbledore wouldn't part with the boys and I was to keep my mouth shut. I didn't look up from my chair throughout the meeting. But that meeting had its own perks."

His young wife looked distressed," Perks! They planned to murder you, well, both Sirius and harry's dad and Pettigrew planned, but that is beside the point. It was contemplated attempt to murder and they get to roam free! Preposterous!" she had screamed at the end of her rant. Snape couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and captured her pouting lips to steal a kiss. When he let her go, she looked deliciously dazed and he smirked happily.

"Well, thank you for standing up for me, Madam Snape. I have n't seen many people doing that for me." her blush had quenched his thirst enough to make him continue. "Remus was determined to seek me out. First, he would try to speak to me. Then he would spill notes into my books. Then one day, he discovered my acute interest in studies of Magical creatures."

Picking up the end of one of her honeydew bushy strands, he twirled it within his fingers," He would stalk me in the library. Read in when I was there, which was actually most of our free time. We would cross our ways through the long rows of bookshelves. Most of those occasions, he would intentionally shove his shoulders into me, and drop a note. At times, my books would fall off. I could have reacted. But I couldn't. I was afraid of him. His notes would vary. Sometimes it would be a hint of a solution to a problem or just a little sneaky information of several of Potter and Black's weaknesses. That day, it happened in the same way. He bumped against me, made my book fall and scatter about, Peter was a couple of steps ahead of me, who sniggered and rushed away, maybe to inform the other two. Seeing the coast clear, Lupinhunched down beside me, Mumbling, I am so sorry, another and again, till his eyes caught the title of one of the books, which carried the legal cases documented against magical creatures. He looked back at me, swallowing hard, white as a sheet. I mumbled back dispassionately," I have given my word." But pushed him away, determined to return one of his entire notes. I knew the other Slytherins were watching us from somewhere around, so I walked away without a backward glance. You can say, that was the beginning of our mutual understanding."

Playing with the end of the duvet, Hermione couldn't stop herself," What was that perk you spoke about?" Severus replied, grinning ear to ear," I discovered I had natural abilities to occlude because Dumbledore did not succeed in seeing the most of the horrors I witnessed that night. I mean he heard Lupin's angry growls and he heard James screaming for me. But he did not hear my thoughts. And also I didn't blurt out much even when offered those horrid lemon drops, which I knew were laced with some truth serum. And, on my next birthday, though I didn't get anything from Lily, because our friendship had already fallen apart, I got a precious copy on Animagus Theory, with a small parchment tucked inside its cover. It had a full moon with fluffy clouds hastily drawn over it."

"Moon, Moony, that was Professor Lupin alias, he gave you a book. A book." she sat up straighter beaming at him. Severus stretched his hand till his fingers reached his bedside table and accioed a book out of it, making it land in Hermione's waiting hands. She flipped over the cover when he nodded his assent and looked back at him while running her fingers over the small drawing on the note. "He wanted you to learn animagus. That is like taking a step forward to being friends."

He laughed," I took years to come to that conclusion. I read it thinking it was from the Black family library. Because it looked like that, complete with the Black crest and stamp. I felt glad that Regulus had brought it for me. Before it was he who actually handed it over to me. I thought it was Narcissa who had sent it to me. Because, during that term, Lucius was sorting my presence more than ever, and she was engaged to him, according to the rumour of the common room."

She narrowed her brows, imagining the late Malfoy matriarch, and shrugged her shoulders," She was crafty, but what interest would she have in planting herself in your matters and turning herself as a communicator between Lupin and You, well, of course, she made sure no one would link it to her, she employed the younger Black to do all the running." Snape had shrugged his shoulders and laughed again, this time a little louder when his wife looked absolutely rattled," which part of it was funny! Tell me!"

He managed to calm down and surrendered," Nothing, it is one thing to listen to you speak, and then it is entirely another thing to hear those thoughts racing behind every single word you say." She ducked her head and then looked back at him smiling," you should laugh often, it erases away those thousand worry lines peppering your face." Tugging her close to his face, he whispered huskily," Madam Snape, I am giving you a serious task now, 'make me laugh as often as you wish." He had allowed her to settle against him, and then added," Though I began reading those books for an entirely different reason." He felt her mumble against his chest," what was that initial reason?"

Running his tongue over his crooked teeth, he whispered," To be prepared. I knew Dumbledore would never come to my aid. And if the Headmaster was washing his hands off the matter, the whole school would happily look the other way and let me die. I thought hard, I didn't want to die. I am a Snape but I am also the last of what is left of the Prince. I dreaded that Sirius would once again try to hurt me, he was reckless and didn't believe in planning his moves. It was always Potter who did that. Remus was the reluctant brain of the team."

Rubbing her soft hand over his chest, she whispered," You were afraid, he might stage the whole thing again and make you stumble right in front of a changed Lupin." His witch had hugged him tight and cried softly. At length, she rose to rest her chin over him and look back to say," I am sorry if that brought more miserable memories," then her eyes narrowed, and she began trailing her fingers over his sides. Snape had caught them deftly and rolled over, trapping her below him and holding her arms above. His witch had gifted him with peals of laughter that soothed his aching heart.

Looking at her sardonically, he drawled," You have had the luxury to laugh at my expense a lot many times today, Madam Snape. I think it is enough for a day…" She protested," But I was just going to tickle you to make YOU laugh." Shaking his head, he let her go and laid down sideways, facing her. "Has it escaped your notice..." She countered, tracing his dimple over his cheek,' that you can smile as well, I mean really, actually, genuinely smile? No."

He watched her face grow solemn. And a second later, she had cornered him with a very painful question," I wanted to ask this before, umm, when did you discover the guest quarters and why was Pin cleaning it up. We were not aware that Professor McGonagall was returning today itself, were we?"

He had to look away from her honest eyes. Rubbing his face with both of his hands, he decided to look up at the glass ceiling instead. Making his voice sound as emotionless as possible he replied," I had asked Pin to prepare it for you. I didn't expect this to happen…" waving his hand in between both of them with effect.

Her eyes traced his tightened face, but she had to ask before burning down another bridge tonight," You loved Harry's Mum, didn't you? It was not just friendship it was pure love, right?" She watched his Adam's apple bob a couple of times, then he was looking straight into her eyes, a challenge etched in those obsidian eyes," Yes, not in any way lesser than you love Late Mr. Ronald Weasley."

To save her from a guilty trip down her own memory lane, he gathered her back into his arms and rubbed her arm gently. He didn't care if she stiffened at his touch, he just continued to offer her comfort in the only way he had learned in the last few hours.

His voice rumbled around them over the crackling fireplace," I don't know any better than you do Hermione, what we both are exactly doing right now. I never had long casual conversations with anyone apart from Albus and Minerva. Well, we can include Filius on that list. I don't know where we are standing at the moment in this relationship. I will give you the full rein to decide its course. But, remember this, I am a possessive man, because I had little to hold on to in my life. I never had the luxury to take control of it either. And never think that I will consider you as a property as the Purebloods would like to put it. You are in every way an extension to my being."

Hermione had burst into fresh tears and finally dozed off in her husband's arms. But Snape continued to rub her arm in smooth circles and watched the bottom of the lake, till the fire died at the fireplace and the room drenched itself with deep green hues. It seemed to him, he had traveled through time in the last two days. He couldn't even thank Minerva or his wife. Because the situation in which they had got married did not call for it. Severus Snape did not thank people at the drop of a hat.

When he finally closed his eyes, feeling thoroughly relaxed, he thought he could take Hermione to a Hogsmeade trip and let her buy something for herself. Minerva had been thoughtful enough to give both of them the bare necessities to a life together packed up in a gift box. But the witch snuggled in his arms was more comfortable in muggle clothes, and he would not take that freedom away from her.


	47. Chapter 46

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 46**

Ginny slept fitfully. Her nostrils flared at times and in her dreams, she found herself rubbing her nose over the nape of _his_ neck or behind _his_ ear or below _his_ pointed chin. Her breath picked up as she continued to trail her fingertips over the expanse of his bare skin languidly enjoying his acute response. Over the roaring oceans and the screaming winds of a sea storm, his voice traveled and caressed her earlobes, "Red, kill me slowly."

She shot up from the floor and groaned. The distance between them did nothing to reduce his presence. This was nothing like having Tom Riddle taking in residence in her head. Malfoy was not just in her head, he was everywhere. His magic growled like a beast beside her own magical essence. She could feel her veins throb and her heartbeat, she could hear a lot more. Like those mites on the floorboard, or the flapping of those birds' wings over distant treetops. And more than anything, she was longing for his touch.

It confused her when she tried to think of Harry, instead, Draco's face emerged. Her mind was breathing like molten lava at the pit of a grunting volcano and within that fiery fluid crisscrossed by cracks and fissures, Draco's sad eyes kept staring at her longingly. She felt warm within. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't conjure up Harry's face. Heaving a sigh, she smiled in the evening air. The sun had gone down and the Burrow was quiet. What a relief! It was like a heavyweight was lifted off her heart and the dent left behind by unrecruited love healed up and switched anew.

Those words that brought her back to her own room did not carry the feeling of despair. They had desire spread over every letter and syllable. He was craving her and she liked the feeling of being wanted so badly. It was a power she was wanting to relish. The attention that did not involve her downplaying herself. The pull of desire was acute and had a sweet flavor to it. For the umpteenth time, she pulled at her hair, frustrated by this growing need to see him, trace his face, touch his skin, and hold him close.

The distinct sound of clinking utensils caught her attention. Looking around, she realized her silencing spells must have faded away, while she slept on. On the stairs she found both George and Astoria creeping down. George had just motioned her to follow them. There were several muttering and cursing coming from the kitchen, and along with it the sound of the open tap and the lilt of music. Wands raised the three barged in.

Ginny exclaimed, unbelievingly," Dorsie! What the Hell?"

The house-elf just glanced at the three of them and then continued making dinner. Actually making a five-course dinner. Knives were chopping vegetables, whisks were swirling batter and the oven was roasting something. The elf muttered distastefully," Dorsie is serving her punishment. Dorsie was specifically asked by the master to serve the house of the Weasleys as long as Madam Malfoy resides here. And what does Dorise finds when she comes?! Everybody sleeping, tea not served, and the kitchen messy, dishes scrubbed unmindfully. And the pantry crying at her. Go away, Let Dorsie work in peace. Children. Stubborn master, won't like Dorsie to iron her ears, instead will live on sandwiches," waving a ladle with a bit of red sauce still stuck on it, she asked a befuddled George," Mr. Weasley, tell Dorsie, who can survive on sandwiches? just sandwiches? Master is not a muggle, the master is a wizard. A full-grown wizard. And he goes and gets, sauces, jams, and peanut butter. PEANUT BUTTER. Someone needs to knock some sense into Master. But no, now is too early. Even Professor Snape was about, so was The Minister, but Master is as stubborn as they come."

Ginny narrowed her eyes and asked," Snape and Shacklebolt visited the Red Villa?"

The elf had passionately relayed what all happened and then pointing towards the living room, shooed those three away with the stern words," Go there, Dorsie got presents and Madam Weasley, do accept Dorsie's services." When Astoria nodded and grimaced, looking at George briefly," Welcome, Dorsie," the motherly elf dismissed them saying," tea is on its way. And Dorsie's special shortbreads to accompany with it."

As the three settled around the burning fireplace, Astoria stared at George and then at Ginny. The brother and sister were ill at ease, even a child could tell that. Swallowing and wetting her lips she offered," An elf really does not go well with the Weasley kitchen." When the siblings snapped their heads at her and glared, she raised her arm in surrender and tried," Late Mrs. Weasley won't have…" Ginny had cut in tersely," What makes you think you know what our mother would have to say about an elf in our kitchen? YOU can't possibly imagine the amount of effort Dad and she had put in to bring up all of us."

George, on the other hand, stared hard at his wife and waited for Gin to calm down. Once the sister leaned back on her chair and folded her hands over her chest, he spoke," Gin, Dad had taught us to consider all sides and then decide, and we will be doing just that, Madam Weasley, why do you think so?" Astoria fled a chill run over her. This was not the husband she had made love to twice only two floors above, neither was it the man who held her close to himself while she cried again and again for her parents and her sister. Squaring her shoulders and folding her hands on her lap, she replied politely," It is not about affordability or about status, neither it is about honoring the dead and nor it is about bowing to Draco's extended courtesy. It is about the integrity that comes with the name Weasley. And it is just the three of us, tomorrow or the day after, the others will join us. It is not right for us to sit back and do nothing when we can join hands to make this place alive once again."

Ginny and George shared a look but sounded interested as both of them nodded at her, mutely asking her to go on. She smiled in relief," I found some recipe books and cookbooks tucked in the kitchen. I can't really cook much, but I can learn and if I can have help then...what I am trying to say is...we can either share the work that goes into keeping the house or we can mop, sulk and cry all by ourselves behind doors."

Gin tilted her head sideways and curled her lips," You want us to work... actually do constructive things and not idle our time," turning her head at George she arched her eyebrow, questioningly. But the brother simply rose and muttered," I better floo call and ask about Bill and Fleur. In the meantime, why don't you both get through these…" The women had levitated the piles of wrapped up boxes and carried them to the kitchen, giving the man some privacy. He watched his wife help his sister to arrange those boxes and pondered. Astoria's point was relevant. She was one level headed witch, but she was as lonely as he was. Her straightforwardness didn't hurt his ego, instead of in one way or the other it showed the amount of respect she had for his family and him.

He wondered if it must be the bond, but then he knew hardly anything about it. If there was a way in which he could speak to Professor McGonagall or Minister Shacklebolt...Poppy Pomphrey didn't know much about the bond. She had been nursing Bill and Fleur at the Mungo's. When the Burrow seemed too claustrophobic, he would seek her company.

Poppy had just returned to her chambers when her fireplace roared and the familiar face of George Weasley popped out of the flames. Her heart lurched when the man gave her a sad smile and she smiled back waving her hand, asking him to step inside. George had blushed the moment he sat down and gushed," Well, you are looking at a married man now." Poppy quirked her eyebrow and retorted," So I have heard. Several of you are married men by the end of this day. I think we can toast on that. Would you like to come and see your brother and sister in law first?"

He had hurriedly replied," No, I mean, I need to talk to you. Can we talk first?"

Poppy nodded. The man in front of her looked fresh. As if, he was finally ready to shred that horribly depressing shell of self-loathing he had built around himself after his twin's death. He looked back at her with sparkling eyes and muttered," Astoria is exquisite. I don't know why I want to say this to you of all the people!"

The medi-witch crackled and her face broke into several creases. She huffed," Of course you do, Georgie! I am your Mother Goose." The young man chuckled at that and settled into retelling the events of the past two days. The older woman watched him speak, noticing the subtle signs of metal recovery. It was going to be a long way, but Minerva and Kingsley had managed to do the impossible. When Molly was pregnant with the twins she had sorted the medi-witch out and insisted she becomes the godmother, said," I just know, these two would need you the most. I just know you know."

Charles and William were boisterous and inquisitive young men. They came with bruises that either spoke of unfortunate incidents with the Magical creatures or a quidditch tumble. And she could hardly remember being visited by Percy Weasley apart from those rare occasions when he needed mild headache or eye ache potions. And those would go away, as soon as his glasses got corrected after a quick visit to the optic healer.

But the twins had been the heart of the hospital wing. A week into their first year, Poppy had found herself repeating the words," Now, what?" for the sixth time at a row and later in the weekend when Snape had joined her to help in restocking the potion cabinet, the man had wondered aloud," Never thought the Weasleys would have a perfect infusion of Brains and Bravado." It was many of the first times that the dour man had begun enjoying teaching. The twins had piqued his interest. They had made the other houses wary of the Gryffindors as well. The Slytherins chose not to pick at the rivals, they had begun to plot and plan. The Hufflepuffs stayed clear and the Revanclaws had drawn back their beak and claws after their star students were tackled both in chess and in 'intellectual spearing', well that was at least what Fred and George called it.

At the end of his tale, the godmother had clasped his hands tightly and made him promise to her he would not let this opportunity slip away. George shrugged his shoulders," I don't know how to act around her, she keeps surprising me. She thinks before she says anything, she can be wild and docile. She can be considerate as well." He dropped his voice," She is like Fred, and then she is not Fred, she is…"

Poppy squeezed his hand and assured," Mrs. Astoria Weasley sounds like a level headed woman. Georgie, don't push her away. Don't drink yourself to misery. You are a smart man. Pick yourself up. For Ginny, Bill, and Charles. I know, it sounds strange, But both Bill and Charles depended on Aurthur for mental support. They would lean on his shoulders each time they found themselves clueless and lost. Yes, Percy was always on his own. And Ron would just manage to squeeze his way in. But now things have changed. It is not expected of any of you to become the head of the house, but you can share that weight among the three of you. I think Astoria was wanting to say that. The Greengrass sisters were always diplomatic in their ways. But I think there was always a noble face hidden behind their stoic masks. I don't think she has any hidden motive other than making the Weasleys accept her for who she is. I also think you need to visit Draco Malfoy and talk about the house-elf thing. It will make things easy and give the man a way to reach out. Snape is beyond himself. Malfoy seems to have taken the hardest of the blows and he has chosen solitude instead of a company. Watch out for Ginny and subtly make her acknowledge this marriage to start with. I am saying this to you, because, George, I am certain you can fix this family from inside."

The man had excused himself in time, having learned that it would be yet another week before Bill and Fleur would be fit to return home. Dorsie had simply rolled her eyes at him as she placed the tea service, complete with warm shortbreads and muffins. As Ginny went back to her room in the pretext of arranging the several dresses Malfoy had sent, the husband had a quiet discussion with his wife about the house-elf issue. Astoria had baffled him again by informing, it was best to let Ginny and Draco decide, but they could work as a liaison if those stubborn heads still stuck to their points of not sorting each other out.

* * *

A/N: Scars don't heal in a day, but with magic and soulmates coming together, things can work faster...share your thoughts...would mean a lot to me.


	48. Chapter 47

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 47**

Lavender laid beside her sleeping husband stroking his back lazily. She slept only for a couple of hours. Blaise Zabini had outdone himself once again. She had heard of the Slytherins being calculative and scheming. But why did everyone think that those skills could only aid the evil? Professor Snape, Draco Malfoy, and several of those younger students had wanted the Dark Lord dead. They wanted Hogwarts to survive and continue being the seat of learning Magic.

The house-elf Elina was cautious of her, ever seen the couple came back into their bedroom. She couldn't remember much of what transpired down in the bowels of this Castle built in Nowhere. What else could she call this place? Glancing out of the windows she kept noticing how often the weather changed. At times so thick was the mist, she thought the windows would not be able to hold them out. Hours later when it cleared away, there was water everywhere. Shacklebolt had explained or was it, Blaise, she couldn't remember, that the Hanging Castle was built on a marooned landmass. There used to be a causeway. Well, there still was, but the spirits of the captured and tormented souls made sure none could see it. The tides would rise to such levels making the are look like a dreadful island.

Forefathers of Shacklebolt had purposefully blasted away the linking road to keep inquisitive muggles and enemies out. And the entrance was permitted only to those who revered the spirits and knew the real name of the castle. A castle. Elina had called her," Mistress of the castle," once the elf managed to gather enough courage. Her eyes bulged out of the sockets and she kept wriggling her palms as she stammered," Will the Mistress be needing a warm bath?"

Lavender's broad smile had eased the awkwardness. Since then the house-elf gushed and chattered in a hushed tone, helping her in all possible ways. "The spirits tell Elina, Mistress was most powerful down there. They have not seen such a powerful transformation for ages. Elina scoffed secretly, of course, they haven't. Apart from the honorable minister and Master Zabini and, of course, the Potion master from Hogwarts, how many living souls have those spirits seen?"

Lavender asked, genuinely interested," Why?"

"Elina will tell you why! Because of the spirits themselves! Never allowed a soul to live even half a day. Elina thinks the dark times are upon us now. Strange Magic coming back. Elina feels it in her bones. But Mistress got nothing to fear. Elina feels it is a good one." Pointing at her many white scars, the house-elf looked awestruck," They are healed and they glow. Does Mistress feel it in her bones, the spirit of Master, the magic of the old and the blessings of the Spirits of the castle fusing together in her blood?"

Feeling bashful under the old house-elf intense scrutiny, Lavender looked at her toes, the only extension of her body on the milky water, apart from her head. "Elina, you can possibly know that." Tucking her voluminous blonde hair under a soft towel, the House elf came to stand beside her and held the edge of the tub, by her knobby fingers," Mistress finds all of this new and surprising, perhaps even overwhelming. But the mistress is a powerful witch and the sleeping master is equally powerful. Both powerful shapeshifters. Mistress, Elina thinks even a curse can be turned into a boon. And that one-eyed mutt will have lots to play! Elina will go now and prepare a meal. Mistress must eat before resting."

Lavender was surprised at the house-elf's observations. Yet, what struck home was its observations about Blaise. With his sense of preparedness, the Italian was far more mature than most of his fellow classmates. He noticed the little things once again like picking those dresses for her which would attract too much attention. Selected them according to the softness of the material. The agate ring he gave her glinted, making her blush and realize she was truly married and free from the clutches of Greyback.

That evil voice no longer echoed in her mind, his tainted traces of magic were replaced by that of something warm and endearing, providing her several reasons to smile and feel wanted. Elina was right, Blaise's magic had this passionate claiming desire to fill her up to the brink. He mentioned, Granger had come out with the idea of the matching procedure. She felt she should write to her. She was married to Professor Snape. That very idea made her giggle but then she narrowed her eyebrows and thought hard. A little later, she exclaimed aloud,' Why of course, they would much, Hermione is so like Snape, snarky and bossy and absolute bookworms, I wonder if they would remain after a month. Hermione knows quite many horrible jinxes and curses and So does Snape. It would be quite a gossip!"

Two arms had encircled her from behind. She would have yelled and screamed in a panic if she was not certain those would only belong to her dear husband. She didn't ask him anything. He didn't give her a chance to say much. He was gentle and tender and acutely aware of her every response as he boldly made love to her there on the bathroom floor over fresh towels.

She had woken up an hour later when Elina had brought in her lunch, which she couldn't wait to have. Blaise had left a note with the house-elf saying, 'eat when hungry. Perfume girl. I will be back soon. Don't work yourself to worry.' Indeed, she thought to herself allowing a small smile to dance over her lips at the sight of roasted chicken and meat, how her life changed in a day's time.

* * *

Ginerva Malfoy was quick to apologize for snapping at Astoria Weasley. Rubbing his forehead with his fingers, he looked at the wrapped boxes and grimaced," I really don't know what to think and say anymore. I feel like I am about to burst almost all the time." She expected the young woman across her look at her smugly. But when she actually looked at her, she found her concerned. Heaving a long sigh, Astoria politely said, " None of it your fault. It is the bond. Though I am curious, why are you reacting in such a way…"

Interested Ginny leaned forward," You know about how this bond works?"

Waving her hand, the Slytherin huffed," I have no idea how Hermione Granger's mechanics played a role. I could never wrap my head around that mud...I am sorry, old habits, pardon me, the muggle-born's mind worked. But the ceremony conducted later on and followed by the sealing of the bond in place within a stipulated time, every long-standing pureblood family is aware of it. It was quite a shrewd move of the ministry, they publicized the 'process' more than they mentioned about the ceremony later on. I wonder, how come you don't know about it?"

Ginny made a face and grumbled," well, Mum and Dad, never confined us to the old ways. We grew up accepting every magical and non-magical entity, irrespective of who there were and where they came from. Earned our lot, the 'blood-traitor' name."

"Personally, several of my housemates never found anything wrong about it. We were rather quite fond of the twins, though we thought not to show it, our parents…"

I get that. So this bond…?"

Leaning back, Astoria looked out of the window, night had finally settled in and the fireflies were dancing over the long grasses at a distance. She sounded sad and distant when she spoke again.

"You won't believe it if I tell you Pansy is a super-fast reader. She pretends to be a darling princess stupid and gloating about whatnot, but she is a sharp witch. She was first to complete the homework and the first one to finish the assignments. We shared the dorm, so we were closer. She would study just three weeks before the exams and be done with it. It was she who studied the 'est vinculum animarum'. I was quick to take a note of it when the officiator said the spells during Daph and Finnigan's ceremony. Initially, I was quite afraid of it, but then there were subtle variations in the incantation which made me accept the proposal to marry your brother wholeheartedly."

"Why? What was so frightening about the initial bonding spell?"

"When the est vinculum animarum spell was first invented, I think it was a couple of decades after the School was founded, it was made to bind the wife to her husband. Pansy pointed out someone in Bloody Baron's family had invented the spell. Women back then were considered equivalent to property. Yes, we were allowed to study but the main interest was to get us married young and make as bear as many babies as possible."

"That's horrible."

"Many back then thought the same. Young witches rebelled and so the headers of the Pureblood families started supporting the spell. That spell would enslave our magic and our soul to the man we are marrying. The husband could make us do his bidding without our consent. It sounds like being imperioed. But the feeling was constant and along with it came the urge to mate and procreate. It gave rise to inbreeding. When the muggles started killing witches and wizards afraid they might overpower them, the supporters of this spell smudging told the general population, we had nothing to worry about. We would rebuild our society, thanks to this spell. It was until Dilys Dervent, who was both the Headmistress of Hogwarts and a renowned Healer, campaigned against it, citing several eye-opening proofs that the spell caused several miscarriages and infant deaths and she tied it to the practice of intra-marriages."

Ginny added thoughtfully, " But right before this Marriage law, people were still getting married in the family."

Astoria curled her lips and mused," Because the lawmakers are the first lawbreakers. They accepted the flaw and abolished the use of the spell, but they kept silent about the intra marriages. Pansy had pointed out the same thing. But her reasons for reading it were all too different."

Looking directly into the youngest Weasley's eyes, she spoke and allowed the words to sink," Pansy was smitten by Draco. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to know if that spell could make Draco comply with her wishes, like if she was to secretly enact it, would it enslave him...Strange, she was not against our engagement. Even asked me if I would mind in case she thought of stealing my future husband, till we got officially married. She was sickeningly obsessed. Though Theodore strongly maintained it, it was because her mother had eyes for the Malfoy vaults. He thought the girl was slowly poisoned in some way. But I don't think you will need to worry about her anymore. Now that this bond is sealed and in place. Though I might be slightly worried about her new husband." She allowed her lips to curl a bit remembering Pansy's scowling flat face.

Ginny observed shuddering visibly at the thought," Geez, who would not! Her shrieks are a phenomenon, I always wanted to shove my dirty broom into her mouth each and every time she would act crazy."

Shrugging her shoulders, running her finger through her hair he confessed," We didn't grow up in the best environment. We come from broken houses, unloved and uncared. Snape was thoroughly aware of our predicament. Thus he always said the Slytherin housemates should look out for each other. Our history and the ways of our parents never allowed the other houses to welcome us with open arms."

Finding nothing substantial to say, Ginny mumbled," I am sorry, I, I mean we were so quick to judge you all."

Dismissing the offered apology by rolling her eyes at the freckles sister in law, the oldest Greengrass supplied, "Ginny, I think Destiny relies on Magic to make things happen irrespective of how hard we try otherwise. Draco's father wanted both of us to get married as soon as we passed out of Hogwarts, or as soon as the Dark Lord won. But Narcissa Malfoy was against this alliance. Our marriage was indeed a business alliance, Mr. Malfoy wanted to force Daddy to pour in more money for the Dark Lord's cause. He was the happiest man when he learned about you becoming Harry's girlfriend. That dairy he planted among your school supplies in your first year…"

"I always thought he did that to kill Harry through me. Draco was such a sneaky parrot," Ginny fumed.

"Our actions back then cannot be excused. Having said that, Ginny don't you think we acted that way because that was what we were taught to do all along," Astoria closed her eyes and counted till ten. She politely continued," Mr. Malfoy never did anything because he would get a short term gain out of it. I don't know much about it. But our mothers were close friends. Narcissa had explained to my mother the reason why she was against the marriage."

"What did she say?"

"She said she truly loved Daph and me, she always wanted Darco to have more siblings. But the marriage simply couldn't happen because a prophecy loomed over him."

Sounding alarmed, Ginny felt her throat grow dry," A prophecy?"

"Yes, Draco is aware of it. Never think that he adores you because of it. He loves you because his heart wants nothing else. I don't know anything more about the prophecy other than the fact that it somehow involves you, which is why Mr. Malfoy targeted you. He didn't wish his only son to marry a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer."

Picking up the first present Astoria sounded hopeful, "And look where we are today. I think I have the Destiny to thank for that. And Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"I think you should start writing down those feelings that are making you jump down our throats, somewhere. Once things sizzle down a bit, we can ask either Snape or Shacklebolt about it." Astoria patted her hand and pushed over one of her gifts.

Ginny asked after a while, watching Dorsie bringing the hot Shortbreads out of the oven," Did anyone of you liked Mr. Lucius Malfoy?" Astoria's eyes had snapped back, they were cold and merciless. Ginny could see her gritting her teeth as the woman hissed," The girls tried hard to stay away from him. But we were children and he was the lurking beast."

Ripping the paper off the flat box, Ginny asked," How did you know about the Red Villa? I am asking because nobody else was supposed to know." Astoria smiled and assured," I knew of it because Draco gave us a little tour, just Blaise and me. I know you won't believe it if I say, he didn't trust Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, and the Parkinsons. He thinks Theo is softy, he would be able to keep things to him. But he trusts Blaise and me. Or else, he would have screamed and exploded the whole place if he found out you had called a healer. He can be a little nasty pouting trot at times. Blaise would say, 'add a couple of white peacock feathers to that.' He considers me as a sibling and Daph as a dotting sister."

Ginny was laughing halfway through the speech. Now, she whipped her cheek and smirked," I think everyone would love to have you as a sister."


	49. Chapter 48

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 48**

"George was here! Why didn't you allow him to come inside? Auror Franklin said clearly, we could have visitors and even Madam Bridgets confirmed," Bill Weasley bellowed the moment Ppy Pomphrey walked into the suite he was sharing with his wife. Fleur Weasly, on the other hand, looked a bit sad when she simply said, "Bill was asleep, But I wasn't. I saw George looking at him from across the glass window. He looked better. First I thought I was dreaming, then he put his finger on his lips and winked and turned and walked out of sight. Madame Pomphrey why was he here?"

Poppy had brought along their dinner and while she watched those two tuck in their food, she explained," George was here to have a private talk with his goose mother. But I have some news for both of you. Though Daisy Bridget believes you both can be discharged from the hospital in the next seven days, she would expect you to be in bed for two more weeks. The order or the ministry wouldn't."

Her serious tone had struck home, Bill gave up scowling at her and asked, immediately concerned about his family," What's going on? Is everyone safe? Did Greyback…"

Cutting him mid-sentence, Poopy glared at him. Once satisfied that the man was back into digging his mashed potatoes, Poppy replied," Greyback is pushed back. And Shacklebolt said both Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini, and Professor Severus Snape share the credit for that feat. Bill, with Remus, died, you are the closed one who can help both Mrs. Pansy Longbottom and Mrs. Lavender Zabini." Bill's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and Fluer gaped," Madame, what on earth?"

"The ministry had successfully implemented the new magical marriage law and in the last two days nearly two-third of the magical population, the bachelors and the spinsters, well thankfully, we got even numbers, have got married." She went on explaining in brief what all transpired while the couple was recovering from their wounds. The face-off at the Staghorn Lair was gruesome and brutal than that of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Bill still could not grasp the situation and he sounded doubtful," Ginny and Malfoy, George and Astoria Greengrass, how on earth is that possible?" Poppy took pity on him. After having a brief discussion with the healer who was in charge of Daphne Greengrass the medi witch had come to the Weasleys to relay what all George had told her, well, of course, she wouldn't divulge the man's secrets!

The husband and the wife had been shifted to general wards from the intensive spell damage wards. Bridget wanted to put them together for specific reasons. She had whispered importantly when she came to Poppy with the special request," Pops, It is better you handle these kids. One suffers from werewolf tendencies and the other is a veela. They need to be side by side, or the girl might tear down every single nurse and the boy might, Merlin knows! I cannot think about it…" she had visibly shuddered," these werewolves have given me fresh sets of nightmares. At times, I think the killing curse is the quickest and painless way to kill someone. Though the Snape boy would think otherwise. He says poison is always the best silent killer! Merlin's bread! It is interesting, remarkable, and haunting, he has taught potions at Hogwarts. Pops, please, I am requesting you. You can stay at the in-house quarters for a while, it is within the hospital premises. For the time being, I don't think Hogwarts will be needing you." When Poppy bit her lips and wrinkled her hands the Head Healer of Mungo's added hopefully," Of course, you can always go back whenever you wish to. I have spoken to Minerva. She has said, I could borrow you."

The Hogwarts Medi-witch had harrumphed and returned that very night to start her 'only for a couple of days' sting at St. Mungo's. Nearly twenty minutes ago, a barn owl delivered a small scrap of parchment over her piping hot strew and flew off without asking for a reply. From the haphazard scrawling script, she knew whom the note was from. " Severus and his famous paranoia. Not even a single letter to go for a signature!". Picking the note up and scrogifying it with her wand, she looked at it again and smiled to herself. As brief as Snape could be. "You are needed here." She was expecting it anyway. Shacklebolt had already had a row with Bridget in the morning.

An hour later, McGonagall had flooed away from the Head healer's chambers to Hogwarts looking happy, victorious, and utterly smug. Bridget had turned to still smirking Madam Pomphrey and said grudgingly," Well, you are next to go, I know it, that tabby cat would need you now. But just don't fly away. We are friends Pops, have been for a long time before Minerva and Albus whisked you off and looked you up in that cold castle." Poppy grabbed the old healer's arm and squeezed it and added," Oh! Daisy, don't feel sad. You agreed to cut me loose." Thus a short sentence," I will be off by morning," earned her a bear hug and a small pat on the cheek, at the end of that day. She had next paid a visit to Mrs. Shacklebolt to bid her goodbye. Bill and Fleur were the last ones. Feeling the note brushing against her hip, she realized, it was accurately phrased given the strange times they are living in. She wasn't living Magical Britain, she was returning to Hogwarts. These two kids will understand the reasons. They would grumble.

Gathering her nerves, she informed," Bill, Fleur, tonight is my last night here. I will be returning to Hogwarts, first thing in the morning." Bill smirked and added," We know, Johnson, the rookie Auror posted at our door is like live radio. He informs us everything that goes in here. McGonagall and Shacklebolt tricked Bridget's and the Gryffindor left for Hogwarts, triumphant. Lavender, Zabini, and Shacklebolt left a couple of days ago, but the rookie is clueless where they went and why they went on the day of the night. Thanks to Merlin, I told Bridget about it and the poor guy was obligated and someone else would be sent vigil at our door from tomorrow. So Zabini and Brown...Brown transformed fully?"

"Yes, she did, and Pansy is much like you. Probably both of you will have to sit down with Neville and Pansy someday soon."

"Hmm, we can do that, but I don't know how far I will be able to help Lavender."

"Shacklebolt and Snape said, they will find a way and maybe rope you in. Blaise is an animagus. Minerva has asked for the man to come down to Hogwarts and show her in person. Shacklebolt mentioned he transforms into a direwolf."

Fleur who had been listening to the entire conversation spoke out," Well, I guess that is handy. We might as well talk to those two if the minister permits."

Poppy nodded and then smiled," Enough of this hogwash, I got quite a lot to tell you both, before you return to Burrows and find it turned upside down." She informed them of Draco's little accident and of Ginny's temporary return, Bill mumbled," this is not something Mother would approve. I will see to it, she stops acting like a kid and goes back to her husband. She needs to understand the importance of this marriage." And Fleur drew his attention to the fact," Draco confessed to George he loves her, he gave her a ring, made it himself, never thought the boy was such a romantic. oh, oh, mon cœur, cela ressemble plus à des amants croisés d'étoiles.."

Poppy felt a little guilty when she couldn't help but retell George's little episode over dinner with Astoria. Bill's face had turned prune and then he was rocking the hospital bed chuckling hard. He repeated her words verbatim and looked at Fleur," Georgie got punched by his own wife within an hour after bringing her to the Burrows, beats me!" And Fleur slapped his arm lightly, chastising much like a caring wife," Language, she is family now. How did he look, was he smiling?" The medi-witch beamed back," OH! Merlin, yes, he was...couldn't keep blushing. Bill, look out for him, his monsters still lurch behind his eyes, he hasn't said a word about Fred, but twins…"

William Weasley shared Charles's sense of adventure and Percy's endless pursuit of knowledge. It was only natural for him to take up responsibilities accordingly. He had chosen foreign travel and a steady job at Gringotts. Yearning the trust of Shrewd goblins came with the risks of his work, but Weasleys were renowned hard workers. The man solemnly nodded," Madam, you don't need to worry, Fleur and I will make sure all three of them are fine. Though I think Astoria has already taken that task up."

Fleur mused," At times, I thought Hermione would have been apt for him though. She is bossy much like Molly."

Poppy smirked at her playfully," Well, she was matched with the very best. Shacklebolt confessed he was dreading the witch and the wizard all day and everyone was quite surprised how quietly they accepted the match. The first 100% compatible match. The ministry is sitting on the entire list of couples who got married, so the Prophet has nothing much to print."

"Blimey, who was she matched with if not, Malfoy or Zabini?", Bill exclaimed.

"Severus Snape, the potion master himself." The medi-witch was satisfied with the way the couple reacted. Fleur had gaped her mouth and Bill had flopped back on his bed shutting his eyes tight, muttering under his breath," Mum would pay a bag of galleons to see Snape married," then a little louder he asked," did you know, Mum and Professor McGonagall has this bet running for years?"

Fleur sensed the gossip in the question and looked up at Poppy with interest," The Gryffindor head of the house bets on fellow professor?"

Smiling brightly the medi-witch nodded," Miss Granger was up on the scoreboard even since her house sorting ceremony. I might have lost quite a lot so has the other professors. Minerva was in favour of her dearest cub all along."

"The twins believed she was bristling with raw magic, which makes her hair untamable. I guess, it is apt, Snape is always this snarling and hissing coiled up man, biting our heads off at the drop of a quill." Bill shook his head once again and then asked," Georgie, is he really better than the last time? You haven't said anything about Charles?"

Poppy looked apologetic."There is no news of Charles, but Shacklebolt will contact the goblins one of these days. Minister Shacklebolt was in favor of the match between George and Astoria. I can see he was right about it. This war is not over Bill, we cannot waste time."

Both the husband and wife said in unison "and we won't." Fleur observed," Astoria is right about the house-elf. The Weasleys are different in their ways of domestic arrangement than most wizard families. I hope Malfoy understands that sentiment, though it is better Ginny is the one pointing out to him. Once I am back, I can always help the girl out."

Poppy had bid them goodnight and went back to her hospital quarters to pack her things. More than her own clothes, she had cracks of potions and bunches of medical parchments and files to pack. She was once again the Order of the Phoenix's primary healer. She had to be aware and prepared with the knowledge of several health issues of its clandestine members. Though one thought kept niggling at the back of her mind. Early the next morning, while fixing her white hair into a bun, he spoke to her reflection," I might as well talk with Snape and Minerva first, then approach George and lastly propose my idea to Madam Weasley. I don't think she can refuse my offer once Snape agrees to it."

* * *

oh, mon cœur, cela ressemble plus à des amants croisés d'étoiles in French means "oh, my heart, this is more like star crossed lovers."


	50. Chapter 49

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 49**

Dorsie was a great cook, but apart from that, she was better at reading the witches and wizards ways. She could understand why her master had sent her here. Definitely not to just cook but to take care of the three people stuck in a puzzle box house. And she could also understand her presence in the Burrows was acknowledged with a grain of salt. So while she made dinner, she looked about the kitchen and sighed.

The Weasley matriarch was respected among house-elves because of her culinary skills. There would be murmurs about her ability to feed the boisterous Weasleys without breaking a sweat. Dorsie was honoured to be allowed to stand in her kitchen. As she read through those tattered cookbooks, she understood how far Molly Weasley's love for cooking went. While cleaning up the whole place, she had come across the abandoned knitting machine and Arthur Weasley's muggle collectibles. She could sense that she might have to go back to Master sooner than expected.

Dusting the rooms above, she muttered under her breath," Dorsie is at a fix. And Dorsie hates being at a fix. Dorsie's presence here insults the late Weasley Mother's memories. But Dorsie has seen with her own eyes how Master George struggles not to look at his dead twin's photograph, how Madam Weasley is withdrawn. She talks and is polite but she does not laugh as much. The Mistress is angry. She does not know why she is missing the master, but she won't say a word. And the Master is sad as well. Dorsie must do something. But what? Dorsie needs to think hard. These wizards and witches are young. And Dorsie knows the werewolf threatens even from far. Dorsie must keep an eye. "

After the three finished off her desert and thanked her politely for her services, Dorsie snapped her fingers and three tumblers filled with half a finger Firewhiskey appeared on the table. Standing a little taller, adjusting her small tunic, she nodded at the surprised witches and the wizard said," Dorsie has something to say." George gave his wife a side glance and noticed even she was unprepared for this. Ginny on the other side of the table looked curious as well.

When his eyes traveled back to the house-elf, she began," Late Mother Weasley was an honourable witch. The house-elves have always found her unique. Dorsie wishes to honour the Matriarch. She was a brave witch, a loving mother, and also a celebrity among the house-elves, though we chose not to mention it to our Wizard families. Dorsie is sorry. Dorsie thinks it is rewarding to be in this kitchen. Dorsie is grateful and sorry. Dorsie was complaining in the beginning. Dorsie does not wish to insult the Weasley ways, but Dorsie is more than happy to serve both the houses, till the Weasleys are up and about. Dorsie never thought of having children, but Dorsie feels Dorsie must simply take care of everyone."

Astoria watched the elf in awe. Of course with the amount of surety, she started her speech vanished at the end, but Dorsie was so much like Dobby, independent, and perspective. She found George struggling with his glass and in the end gave up and emptied it with one long swig. He saw her watching him and averted his eyes looking apologetic. Ginny, on the other hand, sat with knitted eyebrows trying hard to come up with something substantial. But the house-elf had surprised them once again," Dorsie has cousins serving Hogwarts. Every one of them enjoyed cooking for the Weasleys. Fostie especially knows to keep a small sack ready for the young masters when they sneak their ways to the kitchen late into the night. Words travel. And Dorsie has tasted The Weasley Matriarch recipes," twisting her ears, she looked about, then walked up to George and tapped his knee. "George Weasley must not forget the dead, but he must also start honouring them. Dorsie has learned the best way to do that is to start living up to their memories."

Looking at the tumbler the House elf stared back at the ginger head twin and spoke fondly," Drinking does not drown sorrow, laughter does. And the Weasleys are famous for celebrating the little things in life." Ginny had smirked at that and Astoria had chuckled. But George had gaped at the house-elf. It felt like she was trying to feed him his own medicine. Shaking his head, he gave it a watery smile and said," Well, Mum would have wanted us to celebrate. We witnessed the oddest of matrimonial ceremonies. And have survived the first day without killing anyone," Dorsie had refilled his tumbler, but with a quarter, he peered at his glass and narrowed his eyes. The house-elf was looking at him sternly and both Astoria and Ginny laughed at his expanse, drinking up their glasses.

Astoria was glad she was a part of the Weasleys now. They were a bunch of unprejudiced fun-loving siblings. George had pulled Ginny off the chair and danced around the kitchen with her, then suddenly she had found herself getting dragged in that freestyle dancing which was weird and funny and utterly hilarious. But the funniest part of all was to watch Dorise twist her hips and tap dance around them. Of course, that did not happen until George had twirled her round and round, till swayed miserable clutching her head with his knobby hands, muttering under her breath," Master made the world swirl." In no time the whole ground floor had been turned upside down, with three young people lying on the floor across the fireplace, red in the face, sweating and wheezing out of breath. And flabbergasted house-elf bumping her head at the armchair handle muttering under her breath," Dorsie should have known, Dorsie should have paid heed to The Master's warning words all those years ago, the Weasleys can be an utter menace."

George sat up and winked at the ladies. Then bringing out his wand, he cleaned up the whole mess with a determined swish. It was time for the house-elf to gape at him. He smirked and patted her knobby hands and whispered loud enough for the others to hear," That was me thanking you Dorsie, feeding me my own medicine. Geez, it feels like years not having smiled and laughed like this." The man left by the back door, probably to sit on the porch and mellow down.

Ginny dragged Astoria outside as well. As they sat on the rickety bench looking at the night sky, the youngest Weasley giggled," I don't think Dorsie has ever danced with a wizard or a witch. She looked comical."

Astoria softly corrected her,'' No, she has. Plenty of times. She was Draco's nanny once. And Draco can be a handful. Our play dates at his nursery would end up much like that, pointed at the house in general," George quipped," Difficult to believe that thought, Malfoy bouncing around like a white pony," Astoria giggled and muttered conspiratorially, "or a peacock. He was fun-loving and full of life. Until he was struck by the malady called 'appeasing Lucius Malfoy'.Ginny observed," Well that explains it, why Dorsie is so protective about him and now us. I never thought house-elves respected Mum like. It sounded like she was their celebrity of sorts." George squeezed her shoulder from behind and chuckled," Imagine Mum hearing that, she would stammer horribly. "

Astoria could feel George's fingertips playing with her hair. It was a good thing it was quite dark outside, or else the husband would also witness her horrible blush. She bit her lips and wondered aloud, "I don't know what Draco would say to this new development." George instantly understood the underlying invitation to broach the topic to Ginny. He cleared his throat and started," Well, Gin, the elf has said its bit, and I think we should talk it through with Malfoy, of course without hurting his feelings, but…" Ginny patted her brother's knees and got up, stretching herself and working on thought stiff muscles, she pleaded," George, I understand. But can you give it a couple of days? I need to figure a couple of things out. I think only once I am done I can face Draco." She choked at the last word and hastily felt the couple with an off-handed good night.

* * *

Even if she had said good night, as soon as she closed the door to her room, Ginny sunk down on the floor wondering why it hurt so much each time she thought or said His name. She looked around and curled her lips, her room did look better since the House elf took residence at the Burrows.

Old memories she wished to stay buried forever resurfaced. Lucius Malfoy always gave her the chills. And to learn he might have honestly wished her death because of some secret prophecy handed down through the long line of snobbish Malfoy's? How could she play a role in that? All purebloods were relatives to one other. Some were distant aunts and some else cousins once removed, twice removed, it was such a complimented mess of relations, that her head would burst if she thought any further.

Ginny decided before she could ask Malfoy about the prophecy, she needed to verify its credibility. Granger would have been handy in times like this, but then she didn't know how to approach her given their soured relations. Ron's death had made it worse. At least she could look up those genealogy tomes Percy bought from a flea market. She waited for the others to retire for the night and crept out of her room. Sending a silencing spell to both of her squeaking boots, the young woman crept up the stairs. It was hard enough to avoid staring at Ron's bedroom, but the slight of Bill and Fleur's empty room, made her tear up. The couple had shifted to the Burrows after the war. And Fleur had undergone drastic transformations. She had smoothly stepped into Molly's shoes. But Ginny knew behind their bedroom door, the French woman cried her heart out spooned into her husband's arms. She made up her mind to ask about them first thing in the morning.

Arthur Weasley didn't have a study. Instead, Percy's old room doubled as the young man's bedroom, the family's study, and the library. Percy was lucky, never of his younger siblings took to reading. The older brothers had already left the nest and got jobs and quarters of their own. Sitting down on Percy's bed, she lit her wand by murmuring Lumos and studied the books above his cleared up desk.

A subtle sound drew her attraction to her brother's wardrobe instead. Pointing her wand at it, she crept forward, wondering whether the doxies had once again invaded their house, she held her breath and threw open the doors, a spell dancing on her lips. But the very next moment she hissed at the large glinting eyes of the House- elf," Dorsie, what are you doing in here?" correcting herself, he added tersely," don't you dare punish yourself now!"

The house-elf laid aside the book she was studying and crept out and stood in front of the young woman looking as guilty as a cute little puppy. Wiggling her palms, she confessed," Dorsie has looked high and low but found no room specified for elves. Dorsie is ordered to stay with Mistress, Dorsie found this cupboard warm and half empty. Dorsie apologizes for reading Molly Weasley's recipe book without asking for permission first." Ginny peered inside the cupboard and tried not to smile. Indeed, her mother's Witches' Baking Wonders' lay open right over Percy's folded coats.

Looking at the house-elf she thought hard and then addressed her airily," Dorsie, I will not punish you. But, you can stay in this room and not inside that cupboard. But I would like a return favour."

The elf arched her eyebrows at that and studied the witch in return. Ginny bit the insides of her cheek. Honestly, Malfoy elves had to keep that habit from their owners! The elf nodded slowly,' Dorsie is listening." Going back to the bed, Ginny pulled the only chair in the room in front of her and ordered," Come sit on this chair and tell me about Doreen Malfoy."


	51. Chapter 50

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 50**

"I won't lie, I was expecting her to say something like that," Astoria said as George and she watched Ginny walk back to the house, wrapping her coat snugly.

"Gin has never liked being pushed about, she is independent, more so after the dairy episode. And also because well, you can club Ron in that, they both kind of lit up in flames being…" Astoria ended the sentence," the runts of the litter, sorry, not my words, exactly," she tried apologizing, but George nudged her shoulder playful," Nay, that sums it just right. Fred and I might have teased those to beyond measures. How long do you think she will take?"

"She is your sister, you would have a better idea," his wife replied, but George shook his head and cleared his throat," things no longer make much sense to me, but I can give her a week. Then, I might have to approach Draco myself, well, you can tag along as my wingman, but we need to have that conversation. Dorsie is right, a wizard should live on scraps of sandwiches, Mum wouldn't like the sound of it. I will ask her tomorrow morning, mildly I promise because it is best Dorsie goes back and does her bit at the villa. Draco, I have a feeling he will be sulking and whining himself out."

"I would rather wish Ginny to go back and talk to Draco. But, yes, we must push Ginny to take that call, as soon as possible. Ginny apologized to me as soon as you left," she rubbed her palms together and inhaled deeply. " I confess your Burrow looks more inviting than most of our houses and the gardens, lawns. There is a sense of coziness, I really do not how to say this…" George's lips had curled up, he whispered," Mrs. Astoria Weasley, in that case, I should put you into the task of degnoming the garden." Astoria gasp alone had made his bark out a hearty laughter. Getting up he had pulled her up as well and started walking back to the home, playfully commenting," So what did you two talk about, I hope nothing I should be worried about, like finding hexes and jinxes waiting for me when I least expect."

"Mr. George Weasley, are you wishing for a slice of ladies gossip?"

"Hey, woman, you got to decide this right here in whose team you wish to be, mine…" but his wife had cut him short by planting a kiss on his lips. A moment later, she whispered softly," I would want to be in the Weasley team." George wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin over her head and muttered into the night sky," I don't mind a diplomatic wife, well as long as she is by my side."

Walking back home, George let go of her, but promised," Today was an unlikely day, but I promise to get in touch with Seamus and get that fireplace connected. Will do that first thing in the morning. You must be missing Daphne." his wife had just managed to give him a smile when the fireplace chimed and roared moments later.

George walked into the living area pulling himself between the fireplace and his wife and flicked his wand at the roaring flames. He allowed Astoria to stand beside him only after he was sure it was Dean Thomas trying to contact. Thomas looked tried but grinned and bobbed his head merrily," Hey George,' then a little formally," Madam Weasley, Lee reports back two things. Malfoy blasts his own father's fresh tomb and then gives the minister a grand tour of his hidden lair, and not just a day goes by, Shacklebolt corners me and asks about what is wrong at the Malfoy House. And when I fall back to the auror stationed there, I get shoved against the wall and being told the quiet damsel Astoria is nothing less than a dragon mother. You Weasleys are back in action, dude!"

George had chuckled and waved the man inside. Brushing his coat, Thomas flopped on the sofa and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Dorsie was standing next to him with a small plate of everything she had cooked that day. George mouthed," grab it, or she will bite!" Thomas just arched his brow and nodded at the elf, who vanished the moment he had plucked the plate of her hand.

George narrated a bit of all that happened, while Astoria watched the guest intently. Whipping his lips with the napkin, Dean thanked wholeheartedly," Unbelievable but thoughtful of that man, this elf is quite like Mrs. Weasley. I mean, well Madam Weasley, Seamus has dropped a requirement regarding the floo connection, as the real status, both Mr. and Mrs. Finnigangan are at their establishment and aurors are guarding it round the clock."

She looked embarrassed to which Dean rolled his eyes," Seamus's got our Daph now, that Irish man will burn and blast anyone who dreams of causing her harm. I know you Slytherins are all about self-preservation, but we Gryffindor loved to roar it out. Even McGonagall was immersed by his 'particular proclivity for pyrotechnics'. Have you ever thought about it George, McGonagall always came up with the best tongue twitter?" George had grinned at that and recalled, " Ah! I can remember our infamous dance tutorials, where she made a chicken out of Ron," turning to Astoria, he made a serious face and imitated the transfiguration professor,*" _Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons_."*

The three had sniggered at that and George pointed upwards and said," Ginny is upstairs." Thomas nodded in understanding but couldn't help asking," I hope…" Astoria clarified," Ginny had nothing to do with Draco's accident, that fool did that all by himself." the visitor gaped at her and stared at George who mouthed again," Diplomat".

Shaking his head, still trying to understand how those two managed to get so comfortable with each other, he spoke up directly to the only man in the house. He explained," We got aurors stationed near peripheries of the Burrow as per Shacklebolt's orders, but if Lee mentioned the Burrow has some unique wards in place. Double secured. He was of the opinion it could be the work of Granger."

George tapped his finger at his lips and wondered," Could be or it could be Bill and Fleur as well. Anyways, how about you, why are you here and not with your new wife?"

"I could not get married today. My turn near came up. But I am hopeful one of these days soon…" George smirked and Thomas defended himself," I am bored sleeping with roaches and bed bugs mate, ever tried having dinner speaking to your shadow! One needs company." Getting up he tanked both of them once again and left.

Astoria wondered as they both made their way up the winding stairs," He skipped mentioning Ginny…" her husband nodded," she was his first girlfriend and they had a nasty break up, still a touchy thing for that man. But he sees her more like a friend...even made it clear to Draco."

Waking into his room, he turned and suggested," you can take up Fred's bed, or if you want I can transfigure the two of them and turn it into one, but Ginny might wake up…"

Astoria had just patted his cheek and then walked up to the empty bed," I can't thank you enough George Weasley." Her smile made his heart warm up on its own. He shrugged and offered with a wink," Mention not Wingman."

Ginny could n't refuse Dorsie's offer of taking her to Draco. She wanted to avoid going by the Floo, so the house-elf just apparated both of them at the Red Villa Kitchen. It is only after she stood at the threshold of the study watching her husband fast asleep that she realized she had her patchwork throw around her shoulders.

Draco was sleeping on the floor over a duvet, beside the roaring fireplace. He lay on his stomach, shuddering now and then, mumbling under his breath. Perhaps another nightmare, Ginny wondered and crept inside. She had seen them twice but tonight they looked harsher. Those whip marks stood out marring his pale back. He was truly not the Slytherin Prince, he was rather an enslaved in that hell he grew up in. she dared not touch him, but the wife could help herself. She gently placed the blanket over him and walked out as quietly as she came.

Dorsie was waiting for her in the kitchen. Knowingly the house-elf surmised," Mistress feel better?" Ginny glared," How can you tell?" The elf fleeted around the small space, putting back things in their right place, explaining," it is the bond. It calls for the mate. Dorsie can sense it, rare magic, but rarest in master and Mistress's case. Dorsie can't explain much. But Late madam Doreen believed in Old Magic coming back, And Dorsie knows magic works much like the ocean. Dorsie needs to take Mistress back now, but Dorsie promises she will be but here the first time in the morning." winking at the young man she apparated them back to the Burrow.

Lying on her own bed, Ginny felt a bit better and mulled over the notionAstoria and Dorsie had presented. It was everything to do with the bond. But she could tell something was off about it. Draco's inclination towards the fire, his uncontrollable temper, her own volatile outbursts- she could sense the premonition staring back at her, but her vision was shrouded, much like her knowledge. Probably she would need to talk to McGonagall and perhaps Snape. But Astoria was right to suggest, she must write everything down. She turned and bit her lips wondering how on earth was she going to write down something so foreign and personal...her thoughts travelled to Malfoy once again and the last thing she imagined was him resting comfortably under that blanket before falling asleep.

Up above the closed bakery, Daphne sniffed and grinned back at Seamus. The man had a goofy smile plastered on his face, " Oye! Quit that, you need to sleep now Mrs. I know the whole place smells of chocolate, and vanilla, but you will get used to it." tapping her crown, he helped her crawl under the covers. After changing into his sleeping shirt, he came back to find her studying his mother ring, which now sat snuggling around her ring finger.

He had decided to court her first, make her come out of her mute state and then maybe in a years time...the very thought of a promised life made him vow to bring down Greyback as fast as possible. He had transfigured the settee into another single bed for himself. He gave his own one to Daphne, of course, an honourable gentleman would always do that.

Daphne had surprised him by hugging him once again and kissing him on his lips playfully. Dazed the man had mumbled," Pretty lass." but the very next moment he had caught her lips and had kissed her like a man would on his first night. As the girl had stared at him bewildered, he had apologized," I am sorry, I had to. The bond demands it. It will keep you safe."

He couldn't quite make out what she understood from that. She had simply plucked her quilts from her cot and snuggled into his one, patiently waiting for him to join. Daphne Finnigan had accepted him in her own way. Now all he needed was the boon of endless patience, the man thought as the girl curled in his arms and fell asleep in no time.

He had taken the day off, rather Shacklebolt saw to it that he wasn't going to show his face at the Ministry of magic. He was glad he was home. He would have missed watching his wife's eyes lit up each time, Ness brought hot bread, puffs and patties out of the oven. The girl had kept sniffing like an animal, he thought against comparing her with a cat or a dog. She was nothing less than a princess. He had to help the woman in kneading the dough and Daphne soon found herself with the serious task of whisking the eggs together. At the end of the day, Ness had tapped his shoulder and suggested," what are your thoughts about Mrs. Irish Baker?" and tilted her head at Daphne who was busy dressing a tray of muffin with ripe cherries.

Seamus mumbling into the quiet night air and smiled at his sleeping wife," Mrs. Iris Baker, sounds perfect to me!"


	52. Chapter 51

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 51**

The whole world was burning up. Set ablaze by fire which was neither too hot nor too cold. It was soothing to touch and rollover. The breath carried the smell of smoke and burnt debris which he inhaled gladly. It was not the first time he was having this dream. Honestly, Draco Malfoy kept having fragments of one big dream since he accidentally got the green apples sailing from the kitchen up to his nursery, or since he levitated himself up to the grand chandeliers because Lucius refused to take him for a broom ride. He was never alone in these blazing dreams, he had a company. Someone accompanying him hidden under the earth. He could feel the earth rumbling under his feet. It had made him venture into those scary dungeons of Malfoy Manor. It was the first time he tasted the sharp lick of his father's cane.

Even during the basilisk episode at Hogwarts, the Slytherin found himself wary and jittery behind the curtains of his four-poster beds. By then he could identify it was a girl following his lead, traveling through the earth while he walked over it. She sighs and giggles caressed his soul like an old friend. Her magic had tempted him, mocked his intelligence, and kept him wide awake. At the Yule Ball, he could finally rule out, Hermione Granger had nothing to do with his dreams and those pinprick sensations around his magical resources. It was the flaming red witch, the youngest Weasley, one formidable Ginevra, infamous for her bag bogey hexes. The spare incident at Umbridge's Office had enlightened him further.

Though the whole episode was embarrassing yet he found himself gravitating towards the witch. Her magic was like a siren's call, her eyes could set him up in a fire. He loved the gradually burning up sensations coursing through his veins and licking up his beating heart, making it skip at times. It had not escaped Narcissa's notice how Draco was keen on keeping his fireplace blazing merrily throughout the break. She had hugged him tightly after his return on Christmas break and reverently whispered into his ears," It has started, I am so glad it is you, my dragon." She was behind his discovery of Doreen Malfoy's Red Villa and was instrumental in transferring the property rites to his name duping his father in the process.

Dorsie had given him the grand tour and his thought was a calculated mistake made by her to lock her in the basement, where the ceiling had lit up the moment he walked right in the middle of the bared hall. A dragon swimming in water lit up by the fire and an unlikely weasel rode on his back. The dragon's eyes were stormy blue. The same one, only placid and stoic, shredded of emotions looked back at him, every time he made the mistake of looking at the mirror. The first muggle thing he adopted was getting rid of the magical chattering reflective mirrors and replacing them with 'unmoving-just-stitching-to-their-own-business,' muggle alternatives.

But tonight, this peculiar comfort came along with the burning floorboards sizzling against his heart. He snuggled deeper into the cover which smelt so much like her and was lost to the world. He knew it was Ginny Weasley, it had to be her to set him deeper into this seductive realm of blazing fire, hissing coal and glowing molten lava, the moment he had finished sealing the bond. And he was satisfied, even if he was all alone in this whole house licking his fresh wounds, especially the ones stubbornly oozing over his heart.

* * *

"I can remember everything you ever told me, even while I lost most of my control, I could remember your smell, your touch, and most importantly the imprint of your magic over mine. How did you manage to achieve that?" The woman snuggled against the man as they laid over the flagged stones of an ancient balcony, hanging several feet above the ground, almost near to the lazily floating clouds. The man pecked her neck affectionately and replied," Because I am sinful handsome and you are ensnared by my flirtatious advances." A hard enough slap on his chest and a loud "uff' after, his wife had awarded him with a breathtaking kiss. Blaise Zabini found himself blissfully soaring along with those distant white clouds.

"I was tired of watching the world through those barbed windows for the last two days. Why did you hide this balcony from me?"

Blaise held on to her tighter and breathed against her hairline, confessing in shuddering whispers," I was afraid, I would lose you to the Mutt."

When she turned to face him, he clarified," Professor Lupin had once explained, the imprints of a wolf is a strong connection, too difficult to ignore. And the more advanced the mutation the more impossible it gets for the imprinted mate to answer to the mating desires. I had to cage you up, and perhaps the castle and its ghosts responded in the same manner. Trust me, love, I wasn't aware of that iron cage."

Patting his cheek, she laid back on his chest and murmured," I am not complaining, the castle, its spirits and ghosts, Snape and Shacklebolt and mostly you saved me, thank you is such a merger word to say…"His sharp hiss had cut her mid-sentence," Don't you dare start thanking me, it is my duty to protect you, I am your husband." She contorted wistfully," But you weren't through all those years, still you took you time to protect me and watch over me...can I not thank you for being such a noble person, and the Slytherin House has nothing to do with that."

She had to strain her ears to hear those words," I have loved you and I don't even remember since when." Blushing wildly, she rubbed her face and apologized," Sorry, if I pushed you off too hard, those blunt bruises…" he shushed her," will go away in a day, you saved my life, love."

Changing the topic, Lavender pondered aloud," so that black panther was Professor Snape and that fluffy brown bear, Minister Shacklebolt?" pretending to be hurt her husband whined playfully, " My woman notices other men, and never pays any compliment about my perfectly executed transfiguration, How on earth did you miss the huge growling puffing and stalking Dire-wolf!" It started with a giggle that grew into a healthy chuckle and finally took the form of peals of laughter, which traveled through the open expense around the castle. Lavender's laughter was infectious. A while later she pointed out," You never left me, Blaise, you were everywhere, within me, around me above and below, I can close my eyes and I know that direwolf will look back at me tenderly."

"I only tried to give you enough reason to stick with me, I am a selfish man, possessive and passionate," the husband shrugged offhandedly. Lavender hummed but then sat up straighter with a jolt. Panting hard, she looked through the growing mist curling over the grounds steadily and turned to her equally alert husband, "Take me inside, I don't like the sudden chills."

* * *

The pines whistled as the wind blew through them, but a wild cat perched high close of one of those treetops sat still, swishing his tail now and then. From here the castle looked like spikes once the mists cleared away. Its lights blinked like those of the innocent stars above. But Felis was asked to look for something particular, and to return as soon as he had spotted the Alpha 'game'. It was a sin to deny the Alpha' can and a death-wish to erase his imprint and accept another mate.

He had spotted a small party of aurors scouting these first, undisturbed, and virgin otherwise. He was glad he did not encounter those ferocious mountain lions, there were rumours those got killed centuries ago by the previous castle dwellers. He didn't have the desire to share a similar fate. Having succeeded in spotting the young bride, he breathed in her sight, enough to reproduce them to his master and swiftly climbed off the tree. He had the luck to feast on a bird's nest and dig his teeth on a docile hare. He would need that strength.

Felis had short legs and sprinting through the entire forest area was a daunting task. He would not risk assuming his human form until he has reached the nearest port. It was a week-long journey. From there he would travel the muggle way to the adventurous tourist spot. He dared not speak the name of the place so far from the present hideout. He had seen those spirits with his own eyes. Their magical essence was more like a killing force. But Felis was not worried, the Alpha would only strike once the enemy lowers its guards.

* * *

Closing the french door shut and drawing the drapes over it. Blaise had turned sharply and grabbed her by her arms, pleading," What was it? What did you feel?"

Lavender was at a loss. She had no words to explain that pair of cold icicles digging at her chest. She reasoned, they were safe in the castle, the ghosts and spirits of forefathers could deal with that. She didn't require Blaise to panic once again. She brushed his cheek and fondly assured," Nothing, I was just remembering things."

But the man followed her to the bed, still doubting her shifting moods," Lav, love, don't brush me off. Tell me, please…"

Huffing irritated, she smirked back," it is only going to fuel your ego, come, I am feeling generous enough to share it before we call in a night." His wife had soon fallen asleep escaping her hidden secrets to him, but Blaise Zabini watched out of the bay window, his eyes looked over the dark patch at a distance.

His words tumbling down her supple lips were music to his ears. She insisted it was those promises he made to her that kept her sane throughout her transformation. This was worthwhile to take note of. Snape would want to know several of these little things. Lavender was going to the first werewolf in their camp.

" _You don't need to always see things, you can feel and smell them, they would equally fascinate you."_

When she repeated that line, he could feel her awe, and contentment in his bones.

' _I am a passionate man and I don't like doing things halfway. I will fight for you till the last drop of my blood, till the last once of my magic. I will avenge your pain. All I ask from you is to trust me, and me alone."_ She had ended that with a question," Do you still feel that I don't trust you enough?" He didn't answer her. Both of them knew they had to prove themselves to each other. He also noticed her lingering feeling of hurt and hugged her a little closer to himself and they spooned against each other.

" _Open your heart, your soul, and your body to me. I have handed each and every bit of those over to you, the moment I carried you away from Hogwarts."_ She threaded her fingers through his hands and kissed his knuckles tenderly, confessed," I intend to do just that, you make my dreams alive."

As the dawn started to fill the sky with brighter colours he vowed again, "I have looked out for you for a long time, I cannot remember when I fell in love. But I promise Love, I will keep you even if that takes forever." Ghosting his lips over the nape of her neck, he kept mumbling nonsense. His mind, on the other hand, had started planning ardently. He would have to call upon the spirits, redouble the guards and Shacklebolt should be informed. Lavender might hide it from him, but he could sense those pricking icicles even on his back, something evil was watching them. If he would have to tear that forest apart, he would. Because right now, all evil beings would be linked with Fenrir Greyback.

The floo system of the castle was linked with the Minister's own cottage. But they were thinking of an alternative. Some quick and safer ways to avert an attack. He would ask lavender to share her experiences about the bond and he will compile them with his own realizations. These observations should be delivered to his head of the house. It was not going to be a one-time correspondence either. He hated not knowing answers to sprouting problems, but he was patient enough to wait. Lavender was his first priority.

* * *

A/N: Evil never sleeps, does it? And every family has something to hide away from the world...


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